#i will draw his husband eventually if i dont end up eating all of the walls in my house like some sort of rat

[timedyne]

i want to kick crowley down the stairs and snap him in half like a twig i think i will start chewing on drywall RAAAAAAAAAAAH

#blurry art #good omens #crowley #i think if i didn't doodle this my brain would have exploded the british are currently living rent free in my mind #i will draw his husband eventually if i dont end up eating all of the walls in my house like some sort of rat

[monsterenergysimp]

Permanence

corpse husband x fem!reader 

summary: you meet corpse on a stream and you’re surprised when he reaches out to you 

warnings: cursing, mentions of tattooing

word count: 1.9k

notes: This is proof read but could have missed some stuff. This is my first corpse fic and my first time writing fanfic since I posted that super cringey book on wattpad when I was like 12 or something. I’d appreciate feed back so please reach out to me :)

main blog @itsmysleepover

read part 2 here!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You were cleaning up your station so you can get home and stream. You loved your day job as a tattoo artist but you also really enjoyed streaming. It started as a way to promote yourself as an artist and the shop you worked at but it eventually became a really fun way to destress at the end of the week (or day if you were really itching to stream). “Hey Y/N was that your last client?” your boss, KC, asked as she walked to the front of the shop and put new flash drawings on the walls.

“Yes ma’am!” You said back excitedly. You finished cleaning your station and tossed your black gloves in the trash. “And you can’t trick me into staying and taking walk-ins,” you joked with her. She rolled her eyes and walked back into her office “It was one time,” she said as you slid on your jacket. As you walked out your phone buzzed in your pocket and you checked to see who had texted you. It was a message from Sean asking if you were free to play Among Us with him and some other streamers. You replied that you were on your way home right now and totally down. You were excited to see who was playing this time around since their Among Us streams are super entertaining and have gotten really popular.

On your way back you tweeted and posted to your Instagram story that you’d be streaming soon and set up all your stuff once you made it home. After a few minutes, you had a couple of thousand people watching. You entered the discord chat and Sean spoke up. “Everyone this is Y/N she’s sensitive so be gentle.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you guys and I’m not gentle, I'm ruthless,” You say into your mic and notice the chat calling you a liar. Everyone was in the lobby waiting for the game to start. “You sound way too sweet to be ruthless,” Corpse said. The countdown started and you were imposter with Charlie.

“This should be fun,” you told the stream. Yout tried playing strategically but after such a long shift your brain was mush. You saw Poki in nav and killed her then vented into shields. Not long after the body was reported and you were sure you were going to get voted out or at least sussed.

“Where was the body?” Felix asked. “Nav and I didn’t see anyone near there so whoever is imposter must have vented,” Corpse responded. Felix spoke up again. “I think I saw Y/N walk that way and I haven’t seen her since.”

Shit, shit, shit shit. “I’m in shield right now so-” you said trying to defend yourself but Charlie spoke up. “I was doing tasks with her earlier and I saw her walk into shields so she’s safe but I’m still not sure about Rae.” Everyone discussed a bit more and some people, including Corpse, voted for you but Rae got the majority vote and was ejected. You released your breath and kept playing being extra careful.  

“Okay, guys that was super close. Corpse knows and is out to get me,” you said to the chat. You were eventually voted off but one round later victory was written across your screen with your ghost and Charlie’s avatar. “Good game guys,” Corpse said.

“I told you guys I was ruthless!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You sat at your station doing nothing because a client had canceled a four-hour session. You were listening to music and sketching some stuff but you were bored out of your mind and you didn’t want to leave in case you got a walk-in. The music got quiet as you received a twitter notification saying someone had messaged you. You reached for your phone and saw you had gotten a dm from Corpse.

C: hey :)

You didn’t know what to respond. You were mostly confused as to why he decided to message you out of the blue. Did he want something? But what would he want?

Y: Hii! This is sudden

C: was i bothering you?

    shit sorry!

Y: Youre fine I wasn’t doing anything rn

C: how has your day been

    i dont usually do stuff like this

Y: Im glad you did im doing better now I was so bored

C: what were you doing that was so terrible

Y: NOTHING! thats the problem :(

C: im sure youll find something to do

You stared at his message. Unsure what to respond.

Y: Im gonna give myself a tattoo

C: what?

    NO!

You tossed the needles you used for your tattoo into the sharps box. “Oh my god you didn’t,” KC said. She noticed the wrap on your calve from the tattoo you just gave yourself out of boredom. “It’s not my fault I didn’t have anything else to do!” You said trying to defend yourself. She sighed and just shook her head. “Just go home business is slow today.” It was raining so the shop probably wasn’t going to get a walk-in anyway and you didn’t have any more clients for the day. It was only 2 pm but you drove home and after making lunch for yourself decided to stream. You weren’t expecting too many people so it was bound to be super chill. Your leg felt sore reminding you of the tattoo. You snapped a quick pic of the fresh jack-o-lantern on the side of your calve and messaged it to Corpse.

Y: [image] it came out nice!

C: thats  super cool actually

    i was concerned why you would just give yourself a tattoo but i found your instagram and       youre super talented

Y: Thank you!

For some reason, it felt strange to just have that be the end of your response.

Y: Im about to start streaming if you wanted to watch

    [link]

C: ill be watching ;)

What’s that supposed to mean?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You sat in your apartment watching tv, hand lost in a bag of Doritos, and scrolling through twitter. You had stopped paying attention to the anime playing on the screen since you’ve watched it a hundred times and knew you wouldn’t miss anything. It was Saturday and you usually take those days off. Take the time to do chores or meet up with some friends but today you felt like not doing any of those things. As you continue your endless scroll (not helping the twitter addiction you told yourself you’d try to get a handle on) you got a message from Corpse.

C: wanna talk?

You looked down at the message unsure of how to answer. It was a simple yes or no and the obvious answer was yes. You and Corpse had started talking more regularly. You still didn’t have each other’s phone numbers but it was fine. Your conversations weren’t too big-- just you sending him memes, tiktoks, and telling him how much you liked the songs he would drop. Or him complimenting a tattoo you did. Sometimes he’d message you during streams telling you funny stuff his fans would say in the chat and you’d do the same. You learned a bit about each other but nothing too deep or serious. Like how you two lived a few cities away and you both really liked Donnie Darko. When Sean first invited you to that game out of everyone else there you were most excited to meet Corpse. He’s just so sweet and funny. Of course, you’d love to talk to him but you were also itching to talk to him and the last thing you’d ever want to do was make him uncomfortable.

Y: Yeah id love to talk

Here goes nothing.

Y: Wanna facetime or something?

     No pressure or anything it could even be a regular call

     I think facetime is just my default lol

You sent those last two messages quickly after you had sent the first. You wished you could know what he was thinking. It was killing you to think you had turned him off from talking to you completely. You put your phone down on the couch and went to wash your hand of Dorito dust. When you got back from the kitchen you turned off the tv and tossed yourself onto the couch.

Still no message.

Why am I so fucking stupid?  

Just as you were standing up to stretch from sitting on the couch all day your phone buzzed. You reached for it fast and looked to see that it was him. You became super excited still not even knowing what the message said. It could have told you to never talk to him again for all you knew.

C: sure lets facetime

    xxx-xxx-xxxx

You had his phone number. You added him to your small but growing contact list and called. You sat on your couch waiting for a response when he finally picked up the screen was black. It didn’t upset you; you kind of expected it and didn’t care what he had to do to make himself more comfortable during this call.

“Hey,” he said. His voice was raspier than usual.

“Did you just wake up?” You asked and looked at the time. It was about a little past noon and you had only eaten Doritos all day. Shit, you should probably make a decent meal.

“Not that long ago but yeah,” he responded and giggled. That giggle.

“Well, I’ve eaten nothing but Doritos all day while rewatching Ouran High School Host Club, so you’re welcome to join me as I make myself something to eat.”

“Sounds like fun; what are we eating?”

“I don’t know yet,” You said as you stood up and made your way to the kitchen. You opened the pantry and looked. You noticed a can of diced tomatoes and reached for it then checked the expiration date. It was still good. On your counter were some onions and garlic. “How about some tomato soup?”

“Sounds delicious.” you smiled at Corpse and your phone screen not knowing if he was also looking at his screen or not. “You’re really pretty-- you know that?”

“Thanks, but you don’t have to--”

“I’ve already told you what an incredible artist you are so many times I bet you’re tired of hearing it, but you already know what a talented artist you are.”

“That is very kind of you Corpse,” you said to him bashfully as you chopped the onion and opened the can of tomatoes. “But once again you don’t have to reach so far to compliment me.”

“I’m not reaching you are talented and beautiful and--”

“I thought I was pretty.” You could hear him chuckle with a smile on his face. “You’re both,” he said. You could feel your face getting warm from blushing.

“Fuck you you’re making me blush. My face is all hot and stuff.”

He laughed at how flustered you got. “That’s the cutest thing ever.”

You didn’t know how to respond so you just put some olive oil in a pot and tossed in your onions. It became silent but it was a comfortable silence. You turned the stove on and watched the flame for a few seconds. “If it was dark we could pretend we were together and having a bonfire or something,” you said to the phone as you turned the camera to show him the flame (still not 100 percent sure if he was looking at you or not).

“I’ll put it on the list of things to do when you visit me someday.”

#corpse husband #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband imagine #corpse husband imagines #corpse husband x y/n #youtubers #caffeinated ramblings

[tobesolonely]

it’s not christmas ‘til you come home

a/n: hello!! please enjoy this piece from my dad!harry universe! (u dont have to read any of them for it to make sense, but it would be cool if u did! loosely based on it’s not christmas ‘til you come home by norah jones <3 hope you enjoy! thank u to @harryysstyless​ for beta reading for me!! happy holidays everyone :)

warnings: SMUT, a bit of angst <3 word count: ~5.1k 

my ko-fi! thank you :)

December 23rd, 2:00 PM

For as long as you and Harry have been in a relationship, you’ve never not spent a Christmas together. 

Before expanding your family, you and he used to hop from party to party every Christmas Eve. Both of you would be absolutely trashed by the time Harry’s driver would drop you off at his house in the early hours of the morning. You’d sleep in until approximately noon, willing your hangovers to go away before finally making it down the stairs and into the kitchen to prepare two steaming cups of coffee. The two of you would then make your way into the living room and exchange gifts (where Harry always went way over the budget you’d set). 

Once you had your first child, Allison, your yearly tradition of party hopping and getting so drunk you could hardly put one foot in front of the other was no more. Instead, you and Harry opted for calm nights in, watching Christmas movies and drinking hot cocoa until she eventually grew tired and got carried up to bed. You would wait an hour or so before springing into action, playing Santa and setting out all of the gifts she asked for and then some. Harry never forgot to take a big bite out of the cookie and carrot left out for Santa and his reindeer.

This tradition stayed the same once your second baby, Oliver, was born. Even though he was too young to know what was going on, Harry was still excited to spoil him rotten this year as it was his first Christmas. However, given the current state of the world, you were afraid Harry would not be here for the first time ever.

“Mumma, when’s daddy coming home?” your six-year-old, Ally, asked for what had to be the seventh time that afternoon. “I made him a drawing for his gift ‘nd I can’t wait for him to see it!”

“Let me see what you drew for Daddy, love bug,” you say cheerily, purposefully glossing over her question. Ally proudly holds her drawing up next to her face. She looks up at you with wide eyes, awaiting a compliment from you. 

“That’s gorgeous, bug! Daddy’s gonna love it,” you inform her. “Maybe you can stick a lil’ bow on it and set it under the tree for him, hmm?” 

“Good idea, Mumma!” Ally runs to the box where you kept all the supplies for gift wrapping, digging around for a pink bow to stick on the corner of her drawing.

While she’s preoccupied with finding the perfect bow to place on her drawing for Harry, you take a quick glance at your phone. He still hadn’t gotten back to you since last night’s quick conversation when he very briefly mentioned he didn’t know if he’d be able to make it home.

He was filming in Los Angeles. You shared your uncertainties about him going before he departed but in the end, this was an opportunity you didn’t want him to miss out on. You read the Los Angeles Times free articles on your phone daily, keeping track of the state of the pandemic in Southern California. You knew it was much worse there than it was at home in London. You feared what you were afraid of was sadly bound to happen— Harry may get stuck in LA.

You didn’t want to say anything to your curious daughter because communication with him had been so sparse. You didn’t know anything for certain yet. But what were you supposed to think? You knew flying nationally wasn’t a good idea at the moment, never mind internationally.

“Hey bug, d’ya think you can watch your brother for a moment? Mumma’s gotta go make a phone call.” 

You hear your daughter let out a slightly irritated sigh. “I suppose I can, Mumma.” Ally responds with a voice laced with exasperation. You chuckle slightly under your breath at your overly dramatic (much like her dad) six-year-old and head into the kitchen, quickly dialing your husband’s familiar number.

“Hello?” 

You let out a sigh of relief upon hearing Harry’s low, hoarse voice. 

“Hi, honey. Just checkin’ in to see how things are going…” you hear shuffling on his end. “It’s December 23rd, you know.”

“I know, love.”

“Did I wake you?”

“Six in tha’ mornin’ here.”

“I’m sorry, H. S’just Allison keeps on askin’ when you’ll be home and ‘m just so worried you won’t make it home on time and you’ll miss Oliver’s first Christmas—“

“Darling,” Harry interrupts your anxiety-fueled ramble. “‘M gonna make it home. Have I ever not been there when I said I would?” 

“No,” you say quietly. “I’m just worried, Harry. I hear traveling is going to get very strict because they’re trying to prevent people from going anywhere for Christmas…”

“Fine, then I’ll get my own plane with jus’ me and a pilot. Wear a mask the entire time and whatnot. Yanno I can make that happen if it’s necessary, pet.” 

Harry’s calm demeanor about the whole situation brings you a bit of peace. Perhaps you were catastrophizing something that wasn’t as big of a deal as you thought it was a mere two minutes ago. If he wasn’t worried about not making it home, you didn’t see any reason to stress about it— not for one second longer.

“Okay then,” you reply, still a bit wary of his travel plans. “What shall I tell your daughter? She’s drivin’ me up the walls asking where you are every twenty minutes.”

Your husband lets out a breathy laugh, causing you to giggle along with him. “Tell her not to eat up all the Christmas cookies before I get a taste of one.”

December 24th, 8:45 AM

Part of you was hoping you’d wake up on Christmas Eve and Harry would be tucked into bed next to you, plump lips parted, the sound of his snores the only noise in the room. However, you were a rational woman, if nothing else. You knew he wouldn’t be by your side when you woke up. 

You make your way down the hall and peek inside your son’s room. He was fast asleep, plump thumb in his mouth. You smile at your sleeping baby and gently close the door behind you, deciding to let him sleep in a bit longer before waking him up to feed him. 

Next, you walk to your daughter's room, gently pushing open the door in case she was still sleeping. Instead, you find her sat at her desk, deeply focused on what appeared to be another drawing. 

“Good morning, lovebug,” you greet your daughter in a sing-songy voice. “You’re up early. What are you working on?”

“Makin’ a letter for Santa,” she replies, not bothering to look up from what she was doing. 

“A letter for Santa?” You start racking your brain for anything you and Harry could’ve possibly forgotten to get for Ally, but you finished your Christmas shopping for your children way back in November.

“Yes,” she answers matter-of-factly. “‘M askin’ him to make sure my Daddy is home by tonight so we can eat cookies together and watch Toy Story, Mumma.” 

“I’m sure Santa will make that happen for you,” you reassure her. “You’ve been a very good girl this year, been so helpful with Olly and doin’ so well in school. The least Santa can do is get you whatever you want.” You see her smile as she digs around in her crayon box.

“Can we wait ‘til Daddy gets home to make Santa’s cookies, Mumma?”

“Sure we can, bug,” Ally claps her hands together excitedly, bouncing around in her tiny chair. “Gonna go make some pancakes, does that sound yummy?”

“Can we have chocolate chip pancakes please?”

“Are you askin’ me that because your dad isn’t here to throw a fit about it?” You give her a knowing smile, causing her to giggle.

“Maaaaybe…” Your daughter turns to face you, swinging her legs back and forth.

“If I make your chocolate chip pancakes, you can’t tell your dad. Deal?” You hold up your pinky. Ally gets up and runs to you and you bend down slightly so she can link her finger with yours.

“I pinky promise, Mumma!”

“Our little secret, yeah?” she nods. “Keep an ear out for your brother for me, bug. I’ll be downstairs.”

December 24th, 3:00 PM

“Love? ‘M afraid I got some bad news...”

As soon as Harry’s voice comes through on the other line, you can tell whatever news he’s about to share with you won’t be what you’re wanting to hear.

“What is it?”

It’s silent for what feels like entirely too long. You get up from your position on the couch next to Ally, telling her you’ll be right back. After breakfast, she convinced you to watch Toy Story with her, which quickly turned into a whole Disney movie marathon.

“Not so sure I’ll be able to make it home.”

You’re not sure if it’s his calm tone that bothers you, the fact that you didn’t want him to go to Los Angeles in the first place, or simply the fact that you and your children missed him terribly and haven’t seen him in nearly a month–– but your mood changes from relaxed to undeniably outraged in three seconds flat.

“You’re kidding.” Your tone is sharp, venomous. Harry once again takes a moment before responding, knowing that the current tone of your voice means he’d best proceed with caution.

“‘M not, love. I woke up early and everything to try and get this sorted out, it’s 7 AM so I was gonna try and catch an early flight––”

“I told you I didn’t want you going to LA,” you cut him off, voice rising slightly. “You knew how bad the pandemic was getting there. I told you this would happen.”

“What do you suppose I do then, Y/N?” His tone is becoming equally as sharp. “Y’want me to tell ‘em, “Sorry, I don’t give a fuck about the travel restrictions. My wife wants me home so let's make it happen!” ‘S that what you want me to do?”

“Don’t be a smartass, Harry,” you spit. “I’ll give the phone to your daughter and you can tell her you won’t be home in time for Christmas, then.”

“Y/N…” his tone is calm again. Fearful. “Don’t make me do that.”

“She woke up early to write a letter to Santa to tell him she wants you home by tonight, Harry,” your tone softens as well. “Even Olly has been asking for you. Swear his new favorite word is ‘dada’.” He laughs at this as do you, and the shared tension that was present just minutes ago dissipates. 

“Just… lemme try a few more things before I tell her, yeah?”

“Harry, it’s already three here,” you gently remind him. “Even if you do make it home today, she’ll be asleep by the time you’re home. I think you just need to tell her.”

Your husband sighs, knowing you were undeniably correct. “Alright. Give Allison the phone, please.”

December 24th, 8 PM

“Almost time for you to head to bed soon, yeah Allybug?” Your daughter lets out a loud sigh in response, not shifting her gaze from the television to you. Ever since Harry told her he wouldn’t be home in time to eat cookies with her, she’s hardly said a word. She’s never experienced a Christmas Eve without her father so understandably, she was missing him tonight.

You shift Olly, who was falling asleep nursing on your lap, into a different position so you could face your daughter directly. From your new position, you can see just how tired she looks. 

“‘M not sleepy, Mumma. Gonna stay up and wait for Daddy,” she informs you of her new plans. “When Daddy is home that’s when it’s time for bed.”

“Ally, remember what Daddy told you on the phone earlier? Santa won’t come unless you go to sleep.”

“I don’t wanna sleep,” she’s quickly starting to grow upset. “Not until Daddy tucks me in!”

You purse your lips, not wanting to argue with your headstrong daughter when your son was so close to drifting off into his nightly milk coma. Turning your attention back to the movie that was quietly playing on the television, you decide to drop it for now and try again later.

December 24th, 9:05 PM

Not more than an hour later, Olly is upstairs in his crib fast asleep whilst Ally is still laying on the floor in front of the Christmas tree, fighting sleep. She was determined to stay up until her father walked through the front door, and you knew getting her to agree to go to bed was going to be a battle and a half.

“You’re not ready to go to bed yet, Ally?” Her eyes fly open once she hears you addressing her.

“Not yet, Mumma. ‘M not sleepy yet.” Her words are a little slurred due to the exhausted state she was in. You hum in response.

“Could’ve sworn your eyes just shut for a minute there,” you pause for a second to see if she’ll look your way. “Must’ve just been my old lady eyes playin’ tricks on me, y’think?”

“I wasn’t sleeping!” She immediately defends herself, frown lines indenting her forehead. “Can we drink more hot chocolate?”

You knew if you wanted your daughter to fall asleep within the hour, another sugar rush wasn’t the best idea. You instead offer her a hot cup of sleepytime tea and she excitedly agrees once you tell her it’s her father’s favorite type of tea to drink at bedtime. You place her down on the kitchen counter while you fill the kettle and wait for it to whistle.

“What are you looking forward to the most from Santa, bug?” 

Her eyes light up at your question. “Well, I really want a new bike! ‘Member Mumma? How I asked him for a pink bike? And I also want a cool swing set! Since we haven’t been able to go to the park in so long,” her smile falters and she looks down at her dangling feet. “I want Daddy to come home the mostest, though.”

Your heart feels like it’s going to break in two upon hearing your daughter admit that Harry being home would be the greatest gift of all. “So do I, lovebug. He’ll be here in the mornin’ to watch you and your brother open all the gifts Santa got you though, don’t you worry.”

For everyone’s sake, you hoped that was true.

December 24th, 11:50 PM

Sleep wasn’t coming easy. 

You finally got your daughter to bed at around ten o’clock and waited thirty minutes before laying out your children’s gifts. It took much longer than it usually did considering you had to do it all on your own. Harry was usually the one to quickly assemble the larger toys while you laid everything out around the living room. 

Despite it taking longer than desired, you were proud that you got it all done without waking your children up. Consequently, that meant you were now left all alone with your thoughts considering you had no more tasks to occupy yourself with. 

You kept contemplating calling Harry, but you weren’t sure if he was busy on set or not. Surely he was immersing himself in work to distract himself from the fact he would not be spending Christmas with his family. 

Deciding you may need a cup of the sleepytime tea you offered Allison earlier, you quietly get out of bed and open your door, sock-clad feet padding softly against the wooden floors. It’s unnervingly silent in your home–– the tea kettle coming to a boil being the only source of noise. You keep unlocking and re-locking your phone, finally deciding to call your husband to see how he’s spending his day. It goes to automatic voicemail.

You assume the reason for this must be that he’s busy filming on set and set your phone down with a sigh, standing on your tiptoes to retrieve a mug from the cabinet. You mutter a slew of curse words under your breath intended for Harry who always puts the mugs up far too high even though you tell him not to.

Right as you begin pouring the now boiling water into your teacup, the faint jingling of your front door causes you to startle so badly that you nearly drop the kettle on the ground. You try to think back to everything Harry ever told you to do in the event of an intruder but your mind goes blank from fright. Deciding to use the scalding water as your weapon, you slowly creep towards the door, your only plan being to fling the water on whoever it was as soon as they got the door open. As soon as you hear the lock click, you flick the lid open that covers the spout and draw your arm back.

“Shit––”

“Harry?”

Your husband jumps slightly, his eyes blinking rapidly in an effort to adjust to the dark living room. You reach beside him and quickly turn on the light, shakily letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. He looks exhausted, his hair is an absolute mess, and his eyes are red from sleep deprivation–– but he’s home. You set the tea kettle down on the coffee table and fling yourself into his arms, breathing in the scent of the man you haven’t seen in a month. He drops his bags at his feet so he can properly embrace you, pulling you into him.

“Merry Christmas, darling,” he presses a kiss to the top of your head and stays like that for a moment saying nothing, just breathing you in. “Missed ya so fuckin’ much.

“How? I thought…” you trail off. “You said that they said…”

Harry laughs quietly. “Remember what I told ya? I said to ‘em, ‘Don’t give a fuck about your travel restrictions! M’wife wants me home.’” You laugh at him, knowing he was far too kind to talk to anyone that way. 

“Yeah, okay,” you reply sarcastically. You pull him in for another hug, placing wet kisses along his jawline. “I’m so happy you’re home. The kids are gonna be over the moon, especially Allison.” Harry hums, surveying the room.

“Looks like you did a good job in here, Mrs. Claus. See ya even assembled some toys all by yourself,” he quirks an eyebrow. “Were you jus’ pretendin’ not to know how to do it all these years so I’d be stuck with all the hard labor?”

“Maybe.”

He pulls you back into him, tickling your sides. “My sneaky girl,” he bends down so his lips are level with your neck and sucks gently, causing you to let out a quiet moan. You see his eyes land on the tea kettle that was sitting forgotten on the coffee table. “Making a cuppa? Can I have one? ‘M freezin’.”

“I can think of something else we can do to get you warmed up,” you reach for his hands, interlocking his fingers with yours. “If you know what I’m gettin’ at.”

“Hmm…” Harry releases one of his hands from your grip and taps at his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “Not too sure I can say I know what you’re sayin’. Maybe you should just tell me?”

You frown. “You’re really gonna make me say it, huh?”

“Y’know I’d give you the entire world if you asked me for it. All you gotta do is tell me what you want from me and it’s yours–– ‘m sure you’ve known that since the first day we met, though.” Harry takes a step back, crossing his arms across his chest. Even in his thick winter coat, you can see the way his biceps flex, and it makes you even more feral for him.

“Fine,” you say quietly, feeling yourself start to grow shy under his intense gaze. “I’m kinda... in the mood.” You say it so softly that it would most likely be inaudible to Harry if he wasn’t standing mere inches away from you. Harry throws his head back in laughter and you quickly shush him, not wanting any of your children to wake up.

“In the mood? C’mon, pet,” he uncrosses his arms and reaches for one of your hands. “Tha’s not tellin’ me what you want from me. Tell me exactly what you want, lovie.”

“You know what I want, H,” you tell him with a hint of annoyance in your voice. “It’s been a month. Yanno I want you to fuck me, why are you makin’ me say it?”

Harry gives you a shit-eating grin. “You jus’ said it. I didn’t make you say anything.”

You roll your eyes at his immaturity, already in the process of lifting your nightshirt (one of his old t-shirts that’s become just a little too tight on him) over your head. “Are we gonna get to it or not? Because if not, I’ll just go back to makin’ myself some tea and call it a night––”

Harry takes half a step towards you and reaches up to cup your face, colliding his lips with yours. His lips are a little chapped and taste of his favorite rose lip balm. You feel your body relaxing into the kiss, knees going weak as he walks you back onto the couch.

“You’ve been eatin’ up all the sugar cookies, haven’t you? Can taste it on ya. Thought those were for Santa,” he’s pulled away from you to examine your face. “A bit naughty of you, wouldn’t ya say?”

“Please stop referring to yourself as Santa when we’re about to have sex, Harry.”

“You’re not bein’ very kind to the person that’s about to go down on you, are you?” He sucks harshly on the valley between your breasts, wanting to be sure a deep-colored bruise will appear on your skin later. “That’s okay. It is Christmas, after all. ‘M in a giving mood.”

“Stop talking and get to it then.”

Harry slides off the couch and onto his knees in between your legs, gently kissing your thighs. “Cute pair of undies–– s’like you knew I was comin’ home tonight.” Before you can respond Harry’s fingers are tugging at the waistband of your underwear, eager to get them off of you. He presses light kisses to your core, mumbling about how much he missed the smell of you and how sweet you tasted. 

One hand is resting across your stomach while the other one is in between your folds, spreading you open. You try squeezing your thighs around his head, overwhelmed by the feeling of your husband’s lips around your clit after being away from him for so long, but he removes his hand from your stomach and pushes your thighs back apart.

“Feels so good,” you’re breathless, tangling your fingers in Harry’s hair as his hollowed cheeks begin to suck more roughly on your clit. “Missed you so much. Missed this–– us.” 

Harry pauses momentarily to look up at you. “I know, angel. God, do I know.” He attaches his lips back on you, swirling his tongue around your clit as you  choke back your moans. The hand that is holding you open moves down to toy at your slit as he wordlessly checks to see if you’re okay with his fingers being in you. 

“Please,” you say softly, encouraging his next move. He spits on his index and pointer finger before slowly sliding both of them in you, immediately curling them up. “Oh, Harry. Fuckin’ love when you do tha’...”

“Know you do,” His response is curt, simple. He’s focused on the task at hand–– getting you off. He uses the hand that’s lying across your stomach to rub tight circles on your clit, sensing you’re nearing your orgasm from the way you’re starting to clench around him. “Such a good girl fo’ me, darlin’. Gonna make a mess on my fingers in a second, aren’t you?”

You nod as you try to control your breathing and the loudness of your moans. The last thing you wanted was for your daughter to come down to inspect the source of the noise. “Fuck, Harry.” 

“Come on, darlin’,” he gently pinches your clit, causing your body to jolt at the sensation. “Gimme a good one. A lil’ welcome back gift for me, hmm?” 

Your hips are bucking up to the rhythm of his fingers slipping in and out of you as your orgasm quickly approaches. “Har, I’m close…” it comes out sounding more like a warning than a statement. He moves the two fingers he has inside of you in a back and forth motion, coaxing your first orgasm out of you.

“Tha’s my girl,” he whispers, not stopping his movements even as your back arches as your first orgasm rolls over you like a giant wave. “Givin’ me a good one jus’ like I knew you would. Jus’ like you always do. M’ sweet girl.” As you’re starting to still, Harry pulls his fingers out of you and holds them up to your mouth, instructing you to suck them clean. 

You prop yourself up on your elbows so you can properly lean in to steal a kiss from him and notice a rather sizable tent has formed in his pants. Harry gives you a sheepish grin as he palms himself, hissing from the feel of his palm against his cock.

“Want me to do somethin’ about that?” You scoot over on the couch and pat the spot next to you, signaling for your husband to sit beside you. He lifts himself from his seated position, stretching his legs out a bit before plopping down beside you.

“Are you offerin’ me a blowie?”

“I mean, yeah?”

“Can we skip that an’ you can jus’ ride me instead? Think I’d quite like that.”

“Oh you would, would ya?”

Harry nods and unzips his pants, taking himself out. He licks his hand and gives himself a few pumps. “Still on birth control, I’m assuming?”

You roll your eyes as you move to straddle him. “Only been gone for a month, Harry. Of course ‘m still on it, you goof.”

“Can never be too careful. I don’t think now’s a good time for another lil’ one, do you? Think we should at least celebrate Oliver’s first birthday before we try for another one.” His hands are on his hips as he lines you up over his cock, helping you slowly sink down. You missed the burn of him which was even more intense than it usually was considering it’s been a while since he’s taken you.

“I think you’re right,” you reply. You rest your head on his shoulder while you adjust to the size of him, needing to take a moment to yourself before attempting to move. After a short adjustment period you begin rolling your hips, grinding against him in a way that was also bringing pleasure to your clit, still swollen and sensitive from your last orgasm.

Harry’s eyes are fixated on the way your breasts bounce in front of him, the way your stomach slightly jiggles each time you crash back down onto him. His lips are caught in between his teeth; you’re hoping he doesn’t break any skin so you don’t have to hear him whine about how badly the bruise hurts him later.

“Ridin’ me like your life depends on it,” Harry mutters. “Fuckin’ love takin’ you like this, angel. So fuckin’ deep.”

You simply hum in agreement, brain far too foggy to form a coherent sentence. Harry notices your movements starting to become smaller, lazier, so he puts his hands on your hips and decides to take over. He’s thrusting up into you like you’ll up and run away from him if he doesn’t give it his all. He cups your face with one hand and gently guides you towards him, pressing open-mouthed kisses against your lips.

“Fuck, H,” your eyes are squeezed shut and your wrap your arms around his neck, feeling your second orgasm quickly approaching. “Rub my clit please, almost there.”

Harry’s fingers immediately come down to rub at your slick nub, not faltering his relentless pace in the slightest. “Clench around me again, lovie,” his voice is higher than usual, whiny, and you know your husband is just as close as you are. “Love when you do tha’, jus’ need you to do it one more time.”

You do as he wishes once more, knowing once he cums you’ll be directly behind him. Harry lets out a string of expletives as he releases inside of you, pulling you tightly against his chest as he rides out his orgasm. You continue riding him, not slowly down as you chase your own release next.

“Harry,” you’re in a trance-like state, chanting his name over and over as you bring yourself over the edge. “Harry, fuck!”

“That’s my good girl,” he says quietly, rubbing your back as you rest your head on his shoulder while you catch your breath. You feel him beginning to soften inside of you so you lift yourself off and lay back on the couch, legs still shaking. It’s quiet for a couple of minutes as the two of you reveal in the afterglow of your orgasms, Harry gently running his fingers along your leg.

“Round two in the shower?”

December 25th, 6:42 AM

“Mumma! Santa came and he left lots of toys–– Daddy?”

Harry lets out a dramatic “oof!” as Ally jumps onto him, pulling the covers back. Her eyes are wide and she giggles are Harry pulls her into one of his infamous bear hugs, placing kisses all over his face.

“Mornin’, love bug! What’re you doin’ up so early?”

“It’s Christmas, Daddy! Santa came!” she sits back on her feet, a confused look on her face. “Did Santa bring you on his sleigh last night after me ‘n Olly went to bed?”

“Y’know what? He told me to keep it a secret, but he did,” Allison gasps in response to his news as she processes it, placing a little hand over her mouth. Harry sits up and gets out of bed, scooping her up in the process. “How ‘bout we go make Mum a cuppa before we see what Santa got for you and Olly? Tha’ sound good? Let’s let them sleep for a while longer, hmm?”

As you hear them exit the room you take a second to reflect on how lucky you are to spend another Christmas with you beautiful family before drifting back off into a deep, albeit short, sleep.

#harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #its not christmas til you come home #thanks for reading!

[harley-style]

DREAM SMP Swap AU

Dream = Wilbur : Dream comes into the server to help these two kids who are trying to stir shit up -- why not, right? He's got a fondness for chaos but also very protective and caring over his friends. VERY FOND OF TUBBO. To the point of.. well, brotherhood. Wilbur = Dream : He had a vision, to create a place where people could emancipate -- he's not above being the bad guy to keep that ideal in place. He's charming and self-confident and isn't afraid to use blackmail or get all up in your business. Has dirt on everyone but Dream. Constantly threatens secrets but subtle, yanno? Again, very charming, very persuasive.

Tubbo = Tommy : Still very sweet, but Big Crime often comes out to play more often than not. Also a huge trouble magnet, tried to start a...Honey smuggling empire? For some fucking reason, despite its innocent sounding plan, is a threat to Wilbur's land but no one has any idea why. Tommy = Tubbo : Tommy has an innate fucking fixation on music discs. He's got Cat and Mellohi personally. He dreams of starting up a music cafe/music area...? He and Dream get along swimmingly, Dream actually gifts Tommy a few music discs too, but also pins Tommy with the name discount Dave Strider.

Fundy = Eret : Was convinced earlier on by Wilbur to continue his 'legacy' and ideals. Fundy further grows into a neutral party, doing things only when it benefits him. Is the traitor from the first war. Eret = Fundy : Gets far too involved with stuff and the only way out is if he wiggles through the restraints on him. Yes that's metaphorical.

JSchlatt = Technoblade : Assists through uses of contracts and business deals. Like, hello, Tubbo's Honey smuggling business? He and Dream make an agreement, he supplies Dream and Tubbo with shit, and Dream does favors for Schlatt. Technoblade = Jschlatt : Anarchy lmfao. Was actually brought on by Wilbur in secret. Acted as a benefactor for Dream before turning around and causing chaos in the land Dream Tubbo and Tommy built. Blood for the blood god, only the strongest gets to the top kind of government. There's always fucking pitfights. Oops.

Philza = Callahan : Largely uninvolved in the events, mostly just there to supervise Wilbur, Tommy and Techno. Duh. Callahan = Philza : Has personal history with Dream, tries to convince him not to do the thing that could hurt everyone else. Minimally succeeds.

Alyssa = Niki : Ready to defend her home and her family. Niki = Alyssa : Neutral, but ready to back Wilbur up if need be.

Sapnap = Bad : Arsonist, goes around and burns shit whenever he wants to. His base is a Nether inspired fortress. Also, he has to deal with a Nether problem in reference to the Red Vine problem from the original SMP. Hotlands? LMFAO Bad = Sapnap : Helps when asked. Started out on Wilbur's side, as a favor, but slowly shifts neutral due to the conflict between factions.

Karl = Skeppy : Gets held hostage? That's what preoccupies Sapnap's time. He suddenly disappeears or gets trapped in a cell. Skeppy = Karl : Runs around doing supply runs. Gets his friends into various stints to try and settle the conflict through friendly rivalry and competition. It doesn't always work.

George = Ranboo : Unlike original Ranboo, George is highly unsympathetic and needs concrete fucking facts before he acts, and that kind of backfires on him in the end. As a favor to Dream (how many favors is Dream involved in honestly) he runs messages back and forth from Tubbo to Tommy. Ranboo = George : Largely uninvolved in the conflict, like Niki, but unlike OG George, is not absent. He's just there to assist. One of the most innocent and purest people on the SMP, knows when to keep his head down. When his house burns down, he doesn't really believe its Tubbo who did it -- he knows the kid has been framed because he'd been WITH him at the time, but Wilbur pressures him to admit it.

Quackity = Punz : Wilbur's loyal paid henchman. Quackity will cause shit for the appropriate price, he's not exceptionally picky. That stunt he did as Mexican Dream was great and everyone in L'Manberg loved it. Punz = Quackity : One of the best fighters under Techno. Has more morals, but keeps them secretly. Very good at hiding his true intentions/feelings.

(sorry about the other characters not being on here, i dont know them enough to make swaps, or dont know who they'd make a good swap with. Swap who you wanna swap though! i'd like to hear your take on this matter! HEADCANONS ACCEPTED TOO AT THIS POINT EVERYTHING HERE IS FROM WHAT I REMEMBER AND MY HEADCANONS)

PLOT

-Wilbur starts the SMP with Niki, slowly invites others like Ranboo, Tommy, and Tubbo.

-Tubbo expresses a desire to Fuck Shit Up and Tommy says they can get Dream, he's an expert at getting away.

-Dream is extremely protective of them both. Tubbo more than Tommy but that's fine because Tommy is largely independent.

-Tubbo gets in the weirdest shit but Tommy can roll with the punches really quickly.

-Wilbur gets tired of their crap and burns down Tubbo's establishment. It's like the Disc Wars except it's the Great Honey War. Bee War? Basically he's tired of Tubbo hogging all the Honey related expenditures.

-Dream gets the idea to make a honey smuggling empire, as a joke, but Tubbo is Big Crime and he's going with it. Tommy just wants chaos, and he was getting bored tbh.

-Eventually the Honey thing turns into Resource management, so Tubbo Dream and Tommy have a hold on all major supplies

-Shit happens and Dream, Tubbo, Tommy, Eret, Sam, Fundy and Alyssa establish an independent nation. Dunno what to call it bc the server is called the L'manberg SMP so....

-The fight for indepencence still happens. Instead of 'Green boy' Wilbur is named 'E-boy'. Dream still says "WE HAVE NO MERCY FOR YOU" when Wil calls for a ceasefire negotiation, but Wilbur does threaten the nation saying  "If there is no white flag by tomorrow, then you can kiss your sorry little arses good bye. That's my final warning."

-Turns out Fundy's been secretly funneling information to Wilbur in exchange for the safety of his friends, and also because Wilbur's his dad....uhm. Also! He and Dream are circling each other and others are like "OH MY GOD YOU GUYS ARE DEAD RINGERS FOR QUEERPLATONIC MATES JUST MARRY ALREADY" bc I like FundyWasTaken but others might not and its okay, we'll label it as platonic, but can be read otherwise depending on your tastes. But for this, it's very close platonic.

-Wilbur goads Tommy into a fight, as brothers do, but Tubbo steps in and Wilbur fucking jumps at the chance.

-This is the start of Dream's descent into madness. No one fucking threatens or pulls one of his friends like that. Denied. It's still subtle though, so he's okay for now.

-Tubbo and Wilbur face off. When Tubbo pulls back bc he genuinely doesn't want to hurt anyone, Wilbur takes the chance and beats him.

-Tubbo, however, makes a deal. Let their nation stand on its own, and he'll give up the Resource Empire he started. Wilbur accepts, with the condition that they unify their alliance with a...marriage? So basically, political marriage between Wilbur's heir, Fundy, and Dream, the leader of the revolution.

-YEAH I WENT THERE THIS IS VALID

-They're strained at first, but Dream and Fundy slowly mend their relationship post-betrayal.

-Fast forward a few months later. The Nation doesn't really have a leader, as per the agreement, but it does have a representative. All decisions are made via majority votes, and that decision is voiced by the rep and sub-rep, Dream and Tubbo respectively. Tommy's just there to have a good time and causes chaos as per usual.

-Enter Technoblade. He's been called in by Wilbur to...ah. Dismantle a little...nation. Sounds right up his alley. But he asks Wilbur to wait and see what happens.

-Tommy and Dream get the idea to hold a tournament to celebrate their independence, an all out brawl for everyone to kick back and relieve stress. There. That's where Techno comes in.

-He gets Punz to join him after like, being paid (ofc) and they fucking dominate the tournament. Dream's about to congratulate them but Techno turns the fuck around and declares his right to rule the nation. If anyone wants to fight him for the title, they're welcome to try.

-Dream loses another life to Techno trying and failing to fight it. He and a few others lost their first life sometime elsewhere? I guess? Probably by being blown up by Wilbur, idk.

-Tubbo and Dream are chased out by people who reluctantly follow Techno's orders, and Tommy, torn between his friends and his brothers, stays behind. Oh jeezus.

-Since Techno is a fighting GOD, no one's able to usurp him to make things turn back to normal. But Dream is smart, and knows Wilbur's 100% behind this. Fundy kind of knew but didn't do shit about it, which is why Dream rejects Fundy's offer of sanctuary. He can't be sure his husband will stay on his side, after all. It's nothing personal.

-Dream and Tubbo hide away somewhere, probably not a ravine but?? A mountain or something? They manage to get Sam away enough to ask him to build a super cool Redstone contraption thing that opens for them. ooooo.

-I'm not good at names but for the sake of jokes I'm gonna call their land the 'Bee's Knees' bc at some point Tubbo finds a fuckton of Hives hanging from Trees. Bee Mountain if Dream's feeling especially salty.

-SPEAKING OF DREAM. his insanity is on course now, it's slowly eating away at him and in fear of hurting Tubbo he's slowly distancing himself away. Tubbo's like what's wrong but Dream can't answer -- he doesn't know what's wrong with himself either.

-Tubbo and Dream need to go back and confront Techno, but they can't wait for long else Techno's going to obliterate everyone and their extra lives. They call Schlatt in.

-Schlatt's a pure business man and draws up a contract. He'll aid them in terms of supplies, but most of the revolution is on them. They agree.

-Tommy is actually really fucking good at lying and skirting around what he reveals to Dream and tubbo as a spy that Techno would have believed him if he didnt' know his brother. and Wilbur's warnings, of course. That results in Techno just being fucking done with Tommy's bullshit and plans his execution in another tournament? I guess?

-It doesn't go like the festival. First of all, Schlatt can't fight for shit, so why would Techno call him up the stage? No, Schlatt fights dirty. techno doesn't set much rules so theres no rule against poisoning Tommy quick and easy before the fight. Tommy loses another life and is on his last. Tubbo is spitting mad, but Schlatt points out that nothing in the contract covered this, so he's free to do as necessary. Tubbo is stopped by Dream who, at this point, is just overtaken by the need to one-up Techno.

-Also, Wilbur's been slowly persuading Dream to just. Let go. Let the monster inside of him free, he 'deserves it'. By the end of it all, Dream does. He snaps and lets loose the monster crying for blood inside him.

-Callahan is left to convince his old friend not to do it. In a moment of clarity, Dream stares on in horror of what he'd done. In his rage he managed to deplete ALL of Techno's lives (not really but shhhh), cause massive bloodshed, and terrified everyone in the process. He asks Callahan to kill him. Callahan does.

-Yes we'll get to Ghost Dream eventually.

-Anyway, Schlatt still does the Wither plan, because, uh, Drunken Rage. He was so stressed out from the ensuing conflict that he's like "LETS JUST FINISH THE REST OF YOU. THERE WILL BE NO CONFLICT IF YOU ARENT THERE TO FIGHT."

-and then he uses the line from the Lego movie on Tubbo like "Oh, Tubbster. It's nothing personal. It's just Business(tm)".

-Schlatt still dies of stroke. He does come back as a ghost though, that's one main difference.

-After everything's said and done, and the dust has settled, everyone decides to disband the nation, and just live their lives. like, they're done, wilbur, they get your point, jfc, let them rest.

-but uhhhh someone frames tubbo for setting fire to ranboo's (the server sweetheart) house. wilbur immediately decides to exile tubbo in 'anger'. acutally, he wants tommy and tubbo separated.

-tommy's not standing for it though, he fucking fights his way until wilbur threatens him and tubbo's like YES FINE OKAY I'LL AGREE TO BEING EXILED STOP THREATENING YOUR BROTHER

-tubbo's exile arc is not as sad as tommy's, but rather very tense because wilbur keeps riling tubbo up and taunting him. he still keeps contact with tommy though because they arent going to be separated just like that. no way. tubbo just gets a little more mad and gets short tempered like a lot.

-ranboo's not even that mad about it, he knows tubbo would never burn his house, there was a conspiracy on board and even if there wasn't he's like "arent yall overreacting its just a house, didnt you all do this like before the first war even began, what even (also, ranboo was WITH tubbo at the time of his house allegedly being set on fire. Not that he'll admit to it, because he and tubbo made that agreement long before)

-eventually he finds out that wilbur just wanted to pin the blame on tubbo to make him leave, and ranboo's like "IM DONE WITH YOUR CRAP WILLBUR STOP HURTING THE PEOPLE I CARE ABOUT" and leaves

-with the nation gone, people started to solidify their groups. sapnap and karl deal with their own thing, quackity still runs errands for wilbur, george is the main person ferrying messages from tubbo to tommy back and forth, etc.

-there's a funeral for dream, ofc, fundy arranged it. all of dream's shit was hidden because fundy doesnt want wilbur to get it.

-niki's still there managing her bakeshop but doubles as an informant for wilbur because she's well liked within the server

-ghost dream is present and he's a chaotic troll who mostly hangs around tommy. he's really hyper active and is always on the move, you can never catch him sitting still for like, 5 minutes

THAT"S ALL I HAVE FOR MY SMP SWAP AU PLEASE BE GENTLE I DONT HAVE TIME TO GET ALL THE FACTS STRAIGHT FROM THE OG SMP qwq

#dream smp #dsmp #dream smp swap au #swap au #dreamwastaken #tommyinnit #tubbo #wilbur soot #technoblade #jschlatt #yes eret was also another spy he's just stressed #gimme a break pls #speedwrote this smh #eret #fundy #philza #ranboo #sapnap #georgenotfound #badboyhalo #skeppy #karl jacobs #quackity #punz #everyone else? #nihachu #itsalyssa

[buckyskorpion]

11 hours - part three

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Reader

Summary: bucky is the mystery you can’t wait to solve. if you can get out of his bed long enough, that is. a biker au.

Warnings: gang-typical violence, sex scenes, alcohol mentions, probably more to come so stay tuned

A/N: we got some spicy things happening this chapter folks!! a lot of natasha too and plot and a tiny bit of fluff at the end. i hope you enjoy!! let me know what you think. i wont be taking tags for this so please dont ask.

title taken from 11 hours by wet | playlist

part one | part two

Mrs Shoreditch had agreed to meet you at the cafe you’d been inhabiting daily as you kept watch on Steve’s shop, and you’re waiting for her now at your usual table with unusual trepidation. Your leg is bouncing under the table, you’re darting looks left and right down the street trying to catch sight of her. You have to finish this job - seeing Bucky last night confirmed that. Looking into his friends and his life feels wrong, and you want to end it as soon as possible. It’s none of your business unless Bucky wants it to be.

She’s late, one o’clock ticking by and then some, anxiety hiking with every passing minute. The file on her husband sits unremarkable on the table in front of you, and you drum your fingers against it unconsciously. The sooner this meeting is over the sooner you can move on with your day, maybe go see your dad, take on some normal clients who don’t have eery connections to your personal life and keep you up at night.

Someone approaches the table and you’re about to feel relieved, until you look up and instead of seeing Mrs Shoreditch apologising for her tardiness you find Natasha standing before you. She blocks out the sun, a ring of red wisps escaping her ponytail lit up like a halo behind her head but the calculating look in her eyes is nowhere near angelic. She looks nothing like the girl you met at the party - gone is the sundress, replaced by an outfit weirdly similar to yours. Leather jacket, skinny jeans, Docs and chipped black nail polish you catch as she wiggles her fingers at you in that same, condescending wave.

“Natasha?” You can’t believe she’s caught you, but you’re technically not doing anything wrong right now - you just feel like you are, with the way she’s looking at you like a ‘gotcha’ moment not gone your way.

Natasha nods, smirking, and says, “What a coincidence.”

“Yeah,” you breathe, but you know neither of you believe it. “What are you doing here?”

“Visiting Steve,” she says. It takes everything in you not to glance over at the tattoo shop, giving yourself away. You bite the inside of your cheek and keep your eyes trained on hers, furrowing your brows in an approximation of confusion. She waits a beat, you don’t think you’ve convinced her, but then she says, ”He works over there.”

She jerks a thumb to the tattoo shop and you nod, following her finger with bone-deep relief. It doesn’t last long, tension eating it’s way back up your spine as she asks, “What about you? I haven’t seen you here before.”

Been here every day, lady, you think, but say with a tap to the folder on the table, “Work. Meeting a client.”

“Oh?” she asks, an eyebrow raised. She doesn’t question you further, but that in itself is suspicious. Everyone always presses for more with your vague answers - client? For what? Announcing you’re a private investigator kind of ruins your confidential reputation so you often have to work a lot harder than this to keep your work life private. Natasha doesn’t press it, though. Like she already knows. Dread curls low and heavy in your gut.

At that moment, Mrs Shoreditch finally shows up. She doesn’t seem harried, out of breath, or concerned she’s late in any way, shape, or form. She takes the seat opposite you, offering you a smile and placing her ridiculously expensive handbag on the table. With blonde hair tossed over one shoulder, to your absolute horror she looks up to Natasha and smiles at her, too. Recognition, as Natasha returns it.

“You should come over to the shop when you’re done,” Natasha says to you but it sounds more like a demand than a request, shattering the silence with a sledgehammer. You’d miscalculated, somewhere. Something isn’t right.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you say, making eye contact with Mrs Shoreditch and hoping Natasha understands. You hardly think Mrs Shoreditch would want you going in there after you reveal that’s the place her husband has been shovelling her money into for months. Mrs Shoreditch avoids your gaze, however, picking at her perfect manicure. It clicks, then. You’re so fucking stupid.

“See you in a minute,” Natasha says, ignoring what you said entirely with a sparkle in her eyes that doesn’t bode well for you. She crosses the street, gone in a second, and you turn back to Mrs Shoreditch as a numbness creeps into your veins.

She’s a typical socialite, perfectly up-kept in every aspect and dressed to the nines even for a rubbish cafe in Red Hook. You didn’t think she was capable of hoodwinking you, and maybe that’s where you first went wrong. She finally meets your eyes, apologetic and almost tearful. She reaches a hand out, resting it on the file you’d prepared as if she realises last minute trying to touch you is a bad fucking idea.

“I’m so sorry,” she says, “I’ve been wasting your time-“

“Natasha hired you to hire me,” you say, cutting her off with the coldness in your voice. She nods mutely, retracting her hand back to her lap as if burned. “You already knew about Mike’s other bank account.”

“Yes,” she admits, rolling her lips together. At least she has the decency to look ashamed. “Ms Romanoff said she’d pay off an instalment of Mike’s debt if I hired you, and I- I didn’t ask questions. I’m so sorry, you seem lovely-“

You don’t wait to hear her finish, standing from the table and leaving your useless file behind without a second glance. You head across the street, for the first time approaching the front door of the tattoo parlour. Natasha knew you’d come here eventually, knew you’d see Steve and start putting dots together. She baited you here, but why? You were Bucky’s fuck buddy, nothing more. Why play this game at all?

You take a deep breath before shouldering the door open, entering the permanent twilight of the shop you’d come to know so well through the lens of your camera. It’s cool in here, the street noise dampened so all you can hear is pop-punk playing low through speakers and the buzz of the tattoo gun. Steve is at the back, bent over someone’s arm and doesn’t break concentration when the bell above the door rings, announcing your entrance. Natasha waits, however, hip propped up against the counter and smiling as she sees you stop at the door, not daring to enter further.

“What do you want?” you ask, calling out across the shop. It draws the attention of the two guys in leather, Steve’s regulars, sitting on the couch in the waiting area. They eye you suspiciously, as does the kid who mans the cash register you often see doing homework instead of his job. Natasha pushes off the counter, beckoning you to the back of the store where you know Steve’s office to be. You follow, heart in your mouth, aware you’re walking further into the trap you hadn’t even known had been set for you.

Natasha closes the door behind you and takes a seat at the desk, covered in stencil designs and files which she seems to entirely disregard as she crosses her feet on top of them, dirt smears be damned. You sit in the chair opposite, back ramrod straight with how uncomfortable you are, and wait for an answer.

“You’re smart,” she says, which is not what you were expecting. You blink, confused by the compliment, and Natasha smirks. “And a lot more observant than Bucky gives you credit for.”

“It’s my job,” you say, unsure of what to give away. Obviously she knows you’re a private investigator or you wouldn’t be in this mess, but she doesn’t know what you know. Not yet, anyway.

“I know,” she says, inclining her head, “I googled you.”

That makes you uncomfortable. Bucky doesn’t even know your last name, how does she? All that she would’ve found is your business website because you’re not stupid enough to put your life online, but still, the thought that she had been trying to look into you makes your blood run cold. You’re starting to really regret going to that party with Bucky - if Natasha’s weird behaviour then wasn’t a tip off, then your deep-dive into their secret lives has clearly shown you there’s a lot more to Bucky than he was ever intending of letting on. Natasha’s intervention in your job merely confirms what you’d already figured out.

“Why did you get Mrs Shoreditch to hire me?” you ask. Natasha regards you for a second, thinking, and it’s a look that reminds you eerily of Bucky.

“I wanted to see what you’d find,” she says. You feel your jaw clench, despite yourself - she’s being evasive even now, and it’s like she can read your frustration because she smiles then, says, “And I wanted to see if Bucky’s choice to trust you was a wise one.”

“He doesn’t trust me,” you say, defensive, too quick. She raises her eyebrows. Frustrated at this cryptic and frankly dramatic conversation, you ask, “Can you just tell me what you want? You’ve wasted weeks of my time and I think I deserve to know why.”

“As I said,” Natasha said slowly, clearly amused at the rise she’s managed to get out of you, “I want to see what you found.”

“Are you going to pay for it?” you snap. You don’t want to tell her - you don’t know why. Clearly, she already knows far more than you ever will, but this is the only thing you have over her and it feels like the most important thing in the world in this moment.  

Natasha rolls her eyes and says, “You’ll be well compensated, don’t worry.”

You have a small stare off with the red head before you huff, conceding. That was a fight you were destined to lose, anyway. You grab your laptop from your bag and send a quick email of everything you’d collected to Steve’s business email. His monitor pings with a notification and and you raise your eyebrows towards it, watching Natasha unfold her legs off the desk and lean forward to start reading. You don’t trust her with your laptop as far as you can throw it, so you make sure it’s shut down completely before placing it back in your bag.

Natasha reads for a long time, because you’d found a lot. Her eyes dart across the screen almost too-fast, the set of her mouth growing tenser and tenser as each silent minute passes. You feel a weird, sick sense of satisfaction at that - clearly, you’d surpassed her expectations.

You had been thorough. Pictures of Steve, the kid working the counter, the regulars who park their bikes at the back, the bikes themselves, the inside of the shop from your window vantage point, Sam at one point, Natasha at others, meetings they held and rough angles of deals gone on inside the shop. You couldn’t get a clear shot, but you saw them exchanging money with leather-clad strangers for something. The long hours after closing they spend at the tattoo shop doing everything but tattooing is all captured and saved on your computer. You’d written up a run-sheet of the shop’s routines as well, based on what you’d observed from your little cafe spot - Natasha spends longer looking at that then anything else, mouse hovering over the word you’d written at the bottom. Gang?

You’d researched them all, except for Bucky. He never appeared at the shop while you were watching it, and it gave you the perfect out to leave him alone in your investigation. Steve and Sam had wrap sheets longer than your arm, and Natasha notably had nothing online at all. None of them had social media, which is weird, and the only photo you could find dated back to a highschool cross country picture of Steve and Sam, first and second medals respectively. You refused to look for Bucky. It made you sick just thinking about what you’d find on him, so you decided you just didn’t want to know. Not like that, behind a computer screen in your apartment with a bottle of red-wine half gone beside you. Bucky doesn’t belong there.  

You could have kept digging, given more time. It had been eating at you, though, consuming the hours you were supposed to be sleeping and waking you up when you finally closed your eyes. It didn’t matter how much you found, ten more questions would arise from it, and you were becoming obsessed. So you decided to end it. Clearly, you’d come to that conclusion a bit too late.

“Bucky doesn’t know your last name,” Natasha says, suddenly, shocking you enough to flinch. She doesn’t look away from the screen, but goes on, “He doesn’t know you’re a PI, where you live, what you do in your spare time. He knows noting about you, but he doesn’t seem to care. I told him that was stupid.”

You swallow past the hard lump in your throat. You knew Natasha hadn’t exactly warmed to you at that party but you hadn’t expected this level of- what would you even call it? A threat? You feel threatened, a metaphorical knife to your throat as Natasha finally looks at you again, pinning you down with a cold green stare.

“He’s not in any of this,” she says, tapping a fingernail on the keyboard to emphasis your research. It’s not a question, but you know what she’s asking.

“I wasn’t hired to look into Bucky,” you say, refraining from adding because I have self control and I don’t need to invade his privacy to have sex with him. “Anything I need to know, I can get from him.”

Natasha is silent for a long time, staring at you, and you don’t dare look away. This, too, is a test. After god-knows how much time has passed, she stands and you do too, hurrying to grab your bag and meet her at the office door she holds open for you. Conversation over, you suppose - you’re starting to get used to Natasha’s cryptic ways even if they piss you off beyond belief.

“Delete everything you just sent me,” she says. You scoff, rolling your eyes at her, but she stares you down with the darkest, scariest look you’ve ever received from someone who’s a head shorter than you. You think about that word you’d written in your notes, gang, after one too many red wines and thinking back to the way Natasha looked at you when you described them all as a family. Maybe you shouldn’t argue with her, given everything you’d experienced today.

“I’d cover that window if I were you,” you say, instead of answering. A muscle ticks in her jaw but she says nothing else, so you take your leave. Steve waves awkwardly as you go but you ignore him, shouldering out of the shop and practically running down the street.

Energy burns in your muscles that you can’t seem to get rid of, even as you chose to walk all the way back to your apartment which takes over an hour. It’s anger, you realise, fisting your hair and pacing around your apartment like a crazy person. Uncontrollable rage at being played with, tested at every turn, and for what? You never asked to be a part of this game. You’d never done anything but exactly what Bucky asked and it still wasn’t enough.

Your phone begins to ring, Bucky’s name flashing across the screen, and with a scream of pure frustration you throw it full-force into the nearest wall. It makes a dent in the drywall, falls to the ground and the impact shatters the screen but that won’t stop it vibrating uselessly against the floorboards as Bucky rings and rings and rings.

You won’t pick up. This time, or ever again. And not just because you’ve now fucked your phone beyond repair, either. You never asked to play this game, so now you’ll take yourself out of it.

***

This is exactly why you keep yourself so guarded - cutting people out is easy when they have nothing to hold onto. You change your phone number when you go to get it fixed, and it’s like Bucky never even existed. He doesn’t know where you work, where you live, and you don’t go back to any of the bars you went to with him. It’s easier than breathing to remove him from your life.  

The same cannot be said about removing Bucky from you.

He’d crawled inside your ribcage and stayed there, burnt a cigarette hole in your heart to claim it as his and you hate that. You never allowed him to do that. So he might not be physically in your life anymore but he’s still there, a ghost of a hand on your throat and an ache that might mean you miss him.

His friends are crazy and he’s in a gang, you tell yourself daily, like it’ll help. Like you believe it even slightly. It’s better this way.

“You’re quiet, kroshka,” you dad says, handing you a cup of tea. You remove your thumb from your mouth where you’d been gnawing at a hangnail to take it, smiling up at him in thanks. He doesn’t go back to his armchair, though, rather kicking a cushion off the couch to sit beside you. You dip with his added weight, closer to him, and he allows you to rest your head on his shoulder while you both blow on your teas in unintentional tandem.

“Kroshka is tired,” you mumble. He clicks his tongue at you, which is fair. Shit excuse, anyway. You sit up, twisting to face him, and ask, “How do I know if I’m overreacting to something?”

“With you, overreacting is baseline,” your dad says, grinning as you slap him on the arm. He takes a sip of tea and says, “Tell me.”

“No,” you say, aware you’re being a brat, but what are you going to say? This woman tricked me and she’s smarter than me so I cut the guy I like out of my life because I can’t let anyone in or I feel like I’m going to die? Doesn’t quite roll off the tongue.

“Well,” he says, giving you an unimpressed look, “If you’re questioning whether you’re overreacting, I would say there might be some truth to the feeling. It’s not like you to be unsure, though. Are you sure everything’s ok?”

“Yes, papa,” you sigh, going back to leaning on his shoulder. He might have a point. “You’ve just raised an idiot.”

“I did no such thing,” he says, placing his tea on the side table to pull you into a hug. You feel small, like you’re a little girl again, and you close your eyes against your father’s chest. Maybe you can just stay here and forget about the mess you’ve made of your life. He rubs circles into your back and says, “You’ll figure it out.”

“Ya lyublyu tebya, luna,” you say softly. I love you, moon. You’ve been saying this since before you can remember, your dad whispering it into your hair when he tucked you in at night or you calling across the playground when he’d drop you off at school. In your secret language so no one else knows, a message just for him - from you to your entire world.

“Lyublyu tetbya bol’she, zvedzdy,” he responds, kissing your hair. Love you more, stars.

He sends you off with a bag of donut holes, an obvious reminder you’re both not actually Russian but New Yorker to the bone, and you eat two on the subway ride home while you think. Deleting Bucky from your life is instinct, protection - he’d gotten too close. But really, when you allow yourself to examine the tight knot of feelings sitting in the base of your throat, what’s making you run is guilt.

You crossed a line, investigating his friends. You pried into the life he very purposefully kept you away from and you’d changed your number not because you didn’t want Bucky contacting you anymore, but because he might decide not to and you couldn’t live with watching your phone for a notification that would never come. Natasha will have told him everything by now, probably even showed him, and he’ll never trust you now. You’d blown it. You could be angry at Natasha for baiting you into doing it, but she never would have felt the need to if you had just been honest.

You stuff another donut hole in your mouth to stop yourself from crying. It works only a little bit.

The apartment feels colder, lonelier than it ever has even though being alone was what you thought you wanted. It just allows you to think of Bucky some more, curled up on your couch with the bag of donut holes now empty on the coffee table, sniffling into the sleeve of your hoodie. His smell, the way he always runs hot, the callouses on his hands probably from working in his garage you’ll never get to see now. Stubble, short-shaven hair, tattoos all down his left arm you never gave proper attention to. You can’t remember them all. Just the star, red and big in the middle of his deltoid. You thought you had more time.

“Fuck it,” you say, fishing your phone out of your jeans pocket. Bucky might not have your number anymore but you have his. Maybe if you just called him and heard his voice for a second, just that rumbly ‘hello,’ it might scratch the itch driving you insane. Before you can dial though, you get a notification from your banking app - a deposit from a new contact.

Natasha Romanoff jumps out at you, stopping your heart in your chest. Does she have a sixth sense for any time you so much as think about Bucky? She’s transferred you an obscene amount of money, and it takes you far too long to realise she’s paying you for the Shoreditch case that turned out to be one giant trust test you spectacularly failed. The reason you’re being a pathetic mess alone in your apartment pining over a guy who, as Natasha said herself, doesn’t even know your last name. Get a grip, Jesus Christ.

You open up the notification just to check it’s real and she really did triple the quote you’d given Mrs Shoreditch. That’s when you read what she’s written as the name of the transaction - an address for somewhere in Queens. You should probably at least think about jumping up, grabbing your jacket and practically sprinting from your apartment to an address sent to you by someone you’re 99% sure is part of a biker gang, but you don’t. You have a pretty good idea of what that address means, and curiosity is your biggest vice. Natasha’s sending you a cryptic message and you might not quite understand what it means just yet, but you’re certainly not going to ignore it.

Half an hour later you’re standing across the street from White Wolf Mechanics, hiding in the gaps between street lights and watching Bucky fix up a motorbike. The three huge roller doors are all open, letting light spill out onto the street as well as the thump of a baseline from a song you recognise, because you showed him it. Natasha sits on the work bench cross legged, scrolling on her phone and occasionally handing Bucky tools as he asks for them. He stands, wipes his hands on his skintight black t-shirt and says something into the depth of the shop. Sam appears, grinning wide and tossing a greasy rag at Bucky’s head which he catches easily.

He seems well, and that makes you happy. It’s only been a couple of days since you last saw him but it might as well have been months from how much you’ve spiralled. He might not have even noticed you’d separated yourself from him, and that thought makes you sick. You should go. You need to go. But your feet carry you across the street, jogging into the shadows so they don’t see you. You’ll hear his voice and then you’ll go.

You linger by the farthest roller door from them, sticking outside the pool of light and half-hiding behind the wall of the shop. You can still see them, though, Bucky’s face now turned towards you as he learns over the bike. Brow furrowed in concentration, and you want to smooth out the dent between them with your thumb but that’s not for you anymore. It never was.

“Have you talked Sam about it?” Natasha asks Bucky. You watch him glare at the part he’s holding in his hands and his whole body stiffens. He keeps his back to Natasha so you can see the anger play across his face clear as day.

“What’s there to tell?” he snaps. “You’ve taken care of everything, fuck what I want, so what’s the point?”

“Cut it out, James,” Natasha snaps back, “You know I was protecting you.”

“When did I ask,” Bucky grits out through a clenched jaw, throwing the part to the ground so the clang of metal on stone echoes out onto the empty street, making you jump. He balls his fists up at his sides and says, “You were out of line.”

“I’m sorry,” Natasha says evenly. She unfolds herself from the table with an unfair amount of grace and steps behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Bucky sighs, shoulders curling in and tension leaking out of his body. You want to hug him, but you will yourself to stay where you are.

Eventually, Bucky shrugs off Natasha’s touch and says, like a moody teenager, “Whatever.” Natasha rolls her eyes, watching him go back to work on the bike with a bit too much aggression that is strictly necessary. She hands him the part he threw silently, and it takes him a beat to unclench his fists and take it. A peace offering, you suppose, in Natasha’s strange language. She doesn’t go back to the workbench, rather staying by Bucky’s side despite his annoyed grumble.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, she says, “You proved me wrong, and I’m not too proud to realise that. I am sorry.”

Bucky looks up at her, as confused as you feel because where the fuck did that come from, and says, “Proved you- have you completely lost it?”

But Natasha isn’t look at him anymore. She’s looking at you.

Busted, you think, and you consider turning around and running before Bucky can see you. It’s a bit late for that, though, so you step into the light of the shop and halfheartedly return Natasha’s welcoming grin. It takes Bucky a second, snapping his fingers in front of Natasha’s face like he’s worried she’s actually gone in insane before he follows her eyeline and lands on you.

You’ve never seen Bucky shocked before, but he looks it now as for the second time the spare part he’s holding hits concrete with an ear-grating clang. You flinch at the sound despite yourself, and that seems to shock Bucky back into action. He whips around to glare at Natasha, pointing at you as he does.

“What did you do,” he demands. Maybe coming here really was a bad idea after all.

Natasha, ignoring Bucky completely, walks over to hold out her hand for you to shake. I’m lost, you think, as she says, “Let’s start again. I’m Natasha, James is the only family I have and I’m neurotically protective of him. He’s right to trust you, as much as it pains me to say I’m sorry for meddling in your relationship.”

You don’t take her hand. You’re not entirely sure you want to forgive her just yet, even if she did extend the olive branch to get you here. You fold your arms over your chest and say, “Next time, if you want to know something about me, just ask.”

She quirks an eyebrow at you, retracting her hand back to her side and you hate the way she always seems to be laughing at you. Natasha ducks her head, smirks, and disappears into some back office without another word. It’s just you and Bucky, the body of a bike between you as well as the weight of all the things you never said that’s all out in the open now. You’re looking at each other like you never have before, eyes open to the vast chasm of secrets you’ve both been keeping, and for the first time since you met Bucky you keep your distance.

“So,” he says, folding this arms over his giant chest. Not fair, you think, as his biceps flex against the tight sleeve of his t-shirt. Bucky averts his eyes to somewhere beyond your head and says, “You’re a private investigator.”

“You’re in a biker gang,” you reply, mimicking his folded-arms tight-lipped expression. He raises his eyebrows in a silent touché, and now that it’s out in the open you feel something inside you break off, slide down the tense hunch of your shoulders until you feel weightless. You should want to lock up tight, keep Bucky out because he’s gotten far too close already - you should use this blight as an escape. Somehow, though, having Bucky see you like no one else really has doesn’t feel as scary as you thought it would. Maybe because you have something of him, too, tucked against your head and healing that metaphorical cigarette burn. A secret for a secret. You can work with that.

“You changed your number,” Bucky says, and he’s walking over to you now. Guard dropped, hands by his sides, pinning you in place with his eyes on yours for the first time in what feels like centuries.

“I was scared,” you say, coming out more like a breath than a sentence, too transfixed with Bucky being so close to you when you never thought you’d get this again. He smells like car oil and sweat, but you’ll take any gross combination over nothing at all. He places his greasy hands either side of your neck, pulling you closer so practically standing between his legs.

“You know,” Bucky says, rubbing his thumb over the protrusion of your collarbone like he’s trying to turn your brain and legs into jelly, “Nat doesn’t have a high opinion of a lot of people. She means a lot to me.”

“She’s terrifying,” you say, and Bucky throws his head back in a laugh that has you grinning like an idiot. That sound settles warm in the pit of your stomach, spreading through all the dirty guilt and fear you’d been living in for the past few days. Biting your lip as you sober slightly, you say, “I’m sorry for prying, I should’ve just-“

“Don’t,” Bucky says, stern, shutting you up pretty effectively. “I’m sorry Nat is a nosy bitch-“

“Hey!” Natasha’s voice comes from the back office, startling you both into laughing even as Bucky turns to face the door with a murderous glare on his face.

“Don’t you have anything better to do!” Bucky yells, voice thundering through the echoey garage. He waits few beats for absolute silence, neither of you convinced Natasha had actually left, but it’s the best you’re going to get. He turns back to you, small smile on his face so at odds with how rough and messy he looks. Hulking muscle and scars and tattoos and you should be cautious, should be running, shouldn’t be letting him back you up until you hit the wall and he can pin you there with his hips pressed into yours.

But you’ve never been one to ignore something as intriguing and mysterious as Bucky Barnes, no matter how dangerous it might be. Bucky slides one hand up from your neck to splay across your jaw, fingers pressing almost too tight into the soft skin, and you should run from this, too. A reminder, a promise, a warning. You let him.

“Are we even?” Bucky asks, mumbled into the minuscule space between you. You can’t find your voice so you just nod, and Bucky cocks his head to the side as he asks, “You can still leave, y’know. I’ll understand.”

“No way,” you say with a vigorous shake of your head, probably too quickly if Bucky’s amused smirk is anything to go by. You shut him up real quick with a roll of your hips into his, watching with a sense of victory as his expression darkens and he tightens his grip on you. You say, eyebrows raised, “I’ve still got way too many questions.”

“Like what?” Bucky asks, but he’s not got his full attention on what you’re saying anymore, too busy using his grip on your jaw to tug your head to the side and kiss up your neck, warm and open-mouthed with just a bit of teeth.

You nod your head towards the bike he was fixing before, drawing his attention for a second as he flicks his eyes in its direction before resuming his trail of bruising kisses. A bit breathy maybe, you say, “Ever fucked someone on a motorbike before?”

“Absolutely not!” you hear a male voice practically scream, and soon enough Sam is practically running out of the back office with a smirking Natasha on his tail. “This is our place of work! It’s sacred!”

“Go home, Sam,” Bucky says into your skin, still loud enough for them to hear but he doesn’t get off you. You’re blushing, making eye contact with Bucky’s friends and wishing the ground will swallow you whole but Bucky just digs his teeth into the crook of your jaw and grins as he watches your eyes flutter shut. This mixture of embarrassment and unadulterated horniness is making your brain short-circuit.

“My eyes!” Sam cries as Natasha grabs him by the wrist and drags him from the garage. Not without a wink sent your way, and you’ll find time to be humiliated by that later. Right now, you’ve got Bucky’s mouth on yours to contend with and it’s going to take all of your attention.

Part 4

~~~

let me know what yall think of this part!! THANK YOU

#bucky barnse x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader fic #bucky x reader fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fic #biker!bucky #biker!bucky au #11 hours #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #sam wilson #reader insert fic #pov fic #pov #avengers au

[prettyboyhq]

Karasuno boys x sick!fem!s/o

Trigger warnings: mentions of sickness!

Requested by: @animegirlfromvietnam

A/n: this is the third try because the other two drafts were merked by tumblr :(((

Daichi

Daddychi, I luh you 🥺🥺🥺

He spent a bit of time with you before the game, seeing as it was a weekend one.

However, not too much time!! He's the captain so he has to be there early.

He gave you his hoodie though, not able to resist your puppy eyes.

"Rest, okay, love? I'll see you afterwards."

"I love you, Dai!"

"Love you too, honey."

He has husband petnames, FIGHT me on this

When he and his team walked onto the court, he could have sworn he heard you cheering.

Except, you wouldn't right? You were sick.

Right?

He didn't check, it'd throw him off his game to check and worry about you.

However, afterwards, when you collided into him, he welcomed you with a hug and leaned down to whisper in your ear.

"I thought you were staying home?"

"Wanted to support you." You mumbled against his chest, and he chuckled lightly.

"I was going to bring home a CD for you, you know that, right?"

"Mn."

Sugawara

Suga, oh yES PLEASE

He probably babied you all day before the match.

"I made soup!"

"Koushi, I can feed myself."

"You're sick, baby, let me work my magic!"

He tried to make you promise to stay home and rest, but failed to notice your crossed fingers

During the game, he got put in to set, and managed to raise his teammates morale to the brim!

When he got on though, he could have sworn he heard his beautiful, stunning, and very sick s/o cheering for him.

Noooo. She wouldn't

He was proven wrong after the game however, when your form enveloped him into a warm hug.

You smiled up at him, but he was pouting ever so slightly.

"Weren't you staying home?"

You pressed a kiss onto one of his beauty marks.

"That's a dirty trick!"

Asahi

He's so stressed

Please help him

"I can stay home from the game, if you need me to??"

"I'll be fine, Ace."

"Are you sure??"

He'll hear you cheer and just swivel his head to the stands

But like mid jump so he'll just slam into the ground

"ASAHI???"

"I'm...I'm good-"

He is good! You're cheering for him! And if you are, that means you must feel a lot better, right?

He's surprised, when you give him a post game hug, that it isn't accompanied by a kiss

"G-good work! That was a bad fall, though, how's your side?"

You're still sick????

He frets and frets, and eventually you two go home where he makes you tea and thanks you for coming

Nishinoya

"Look at me! The best boyfriend ever bringing you ice cream!"

Let's you play with his hair, and maybe style it if you know how

"I'll win just for you!"

"You mean 'our team'?"

"Yeah!"

Really bummed you can't come, but you're sick! You can't help it

Mid game, he'd manage to save a particularly hard serve, but when he heard your cheer of "GO YUU!"

Hoho!

He completely forgets your sick, and gets hyped

They win, of course, and yuu you two embrace post game.

"Did you see my saves in the first set? They were all 'wah' and 'bam'!"

"I-Im so proud of you, Yuu!"

Immediate pout

"Wait! You're sick!"

"Yeah?"

You're in his arms now, sorry I dont make the rules

"Your perfect boyfriend is going to take perfect care of you!"

Tanaka

Bald simp man <333

He comes PREPARED

(Thank you, Ennoshita)

Then he ruins it by deciding kisses are the best meds.

They're not.

Even when he's leaving, he's pulling every trick

"5 more for the road?"

Scouts the audience one last time to see if you're there

And when he sees you?

"MY GIRLFRIEND IS HERE! IM ALLLL FIRED UP!!"

"Keep your shirt on, Tanaka."

Even after the game he doesn't let up

"Victory kithes??"

Like, begging, hands and knees.

And who are you to refuse?

He's sick 2 days later

Yamaguchi

He felt so bad for you!!!

You ended up having to reassure him you wouldn't die.

"Tadashi, it's a cold."

"But what if it's more??"

You cuddled for straight HOURS while watching ghibli movies and drinking tea.

Eventually though, he had to leave for the game.

"You'll do great, 'dashi! I know how hard you've been working!"

"O-okay!"

He got put in a quarter way through the game, and immediately tried a jump float,

Which

He

NAILED

What caught him off gaurd though, not only his win, but, if he focused, he could have sworn he heard a cheer he reconized.

Convinced himself it was nothing until after the game when you wrapped him in a huge hug

"Y-y/n?"

"Tadashi!! Your jump float!!!! It was so good!! I'm so proud of you, baby!!"

He sheepishly held you close, a flush reaching his ears,

"P-please be safer next time and stay home." Before pulling away a bit and looking at you.

"Was it really that good?"

Please just praise him

Hinata

He🧡🧡🧡🍊🍊🍊

He is surprisingly good at this, he's taken care of Natsu when she gets sick, so he has experience

Doesn't mean he isn't still hinata.

"Kith??"

Literally so bummed you can't come.

Kageyama hits him

However, afterwards, when you come up and hug him tight??

He doesn't care if he gets sick, kisses, hugs, and cuddles for the rest of the night.

He gets sick a week later.

(Sorry his was so short!)

Kageyama

Bluebabby<3

He really wants to help but is very confused

"Eat your soup, Boke!"

His Google search history is filled with

'How do I help my girlfriend not be sick'

'Girlfriend sick what do'

'Help girlfriend has a cold'

You have just been vibin the whole time while telling him

"Tobio, I had cough medicine earlier."

"Tobio, I don't need more soup."

"You can't kiss me, you have a game in a half hour."

He's pouting about that.

Just give him some butterfly kisses, that should help.

During the game, he doesn't hear you cheer, his complete focus is on his teammates and the ball.

However afterwards, he's a bit bummed you couldn't come, especially because they won

"Yamayama, are you SULKING???"

"BOKE! I am not!"

He is.

At least, until you suddenly hug him tightly from behind.

"Good work, Tobio! I'm so proud of you!"

He's happy now, even if he might get sick if he kisses you

Tsukishima

Tsu-KISS-ME-shima

He had texted you before the game, but didn't come see you because 'he didn't want to get sick'

Totally not because it broke his heart to see you at anything less than your best, and knew he would miss the game if he came to see you

Reminded you to rest, well, not exactly reminded, more like told.

"Get some sleep, idiot, yamaguchi misses you."

"You don't???🥺🥺🥺"

"Look who's drawing conclusions? Go to sleep."

However, during the game, after a particularly good spike, he heard a familiar scream, that sounded just a bit abused from sickness.

He tried not to look at the stands

However, afterwards, when your form barreled up to him, enveloping him in a hug, he just "tch"ed and hugged you back.

"Aww!!"

"Shut it, Tadashi."

"Gomen, Tsukki!"

You were both exhausted, you from the exertion of cheering, and him from the game, so you bussed home together.

"Good work!" You croaked at him, a stupid smile adorning your face.

"Shut up.. and thank you for coming."

#daichi x you #daichi sawamura x reader #daichi sawamura #sugawara koushi x reader #sugawara koushi #sugawara x you #asahi x you #asahi azumane x reader #asahi azumane #tanaka ryunosuke x reader #tanaka ryuunosuke #tanaka x you #nishinoya x you #nishinoya yu x reader #nishinoya yuu #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata shoyuo #hinata shoyo #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama tobio #yamaguchi tadashi x reader #yamaguchi tadashi #yamaguchi x you #tsukishima x you #tsukishima kei #tsukishima kei x reader

[sometipsygnostalgic]

Do you think Pen Ward is over AT? Like mentally. To my knowledge he isn't part of creating Distant Lands (I'm sure he could have worked on it if he wanted to) and unlike other cartoon creators whose shows have finished he rarely mentions it or draws stuff from it. I don't know if I'm projecting but it seems like Pen has completely moved on from AT and that makes me sad because it makes me think he got so burnt out from it he doesn't care about his most well known work anymore :(

I think you’re projecting a bit. Sure, some creators do get burnt out and eventually want nothing to do with their work (Andrew Hussie), but Pen’s circumstances are different. 

Pendleton Ward did get burnt out with AT, but that’s because he was sick of dealing with people at press conferences, Cartoon Network, etc, not because he hated working on the show. Pen was a very private individual. He hated dealing with people on the business side of things, he just wanted to be a writer. 

He stayed in the writer’s room until much later, the end of Season 6. 

He did leave the show eventually, but he kept storyboarding for it even. Pen also continued to voice act, primarily as LSP, which is probably why they kept bringing LSP back so much from season 7 onwards. They wanted Pen back in the studio!!!!    

Around the time that he left, Pen wrote and storyboarded the game “Explore the Dungeon because I Don’t Know”, which was an early peak at some very late-series lore. It was the big reveal of PB’s age and origin, and it contains tons of material relating to the shift in tone of the later seasons. It makes me think that the show went EXACTLY in the direction he wanted it to. 

In fact the eps he worked on  are some of the most unsettling of all: 

Bad Timing, which has LSP bombing a castle and killing her love interest, a joke about eating cyanide gum if youre captured by raiders, and drinking to cope, with one of the most surprisingly heartbreaking endings of the series. This ep is to this day unresolved - Johnny is permanently stuck in the other dimension, and LSP has still forgotten his existence, and Peebs still knows all about what happened but can’t do shit. Also what ARE those little guys? Are they micro bacteria? They are definitely a Pen Ward idea.  

High Strangeness. This is the one where Tree Trunks is in a relationship with an alien and she has alien kids, but one of PB’s rockets crashes into the space ship and infects it with little pink best buds, who tear the aliens to pieces. TT stages a coup and wants guns and makes “fascist!” signs, PB retreats the program, and says she only did it because she thinks Ooo’s going to get destroyed. Pb’s anxieties are resolved by TT sending her space husband away with the tiny rocket for 40 years, and... uhh.... Ooo getting destroyed in the future. Oh and poor Mr Pig found out at the end. He didn’t seem happy. I love this episode so much. 

Imaginary Resources. This ep won a fucking Emmy! Pen Ward co-storyboarded this and it takes place in VR, because it turns out the Humans built an entire island of people who wanted to escape to virtual reality. They’ve become consumed by it and need to keep using it to cope, their bodies no longer fit to move around freely. And how is this conflict resolved? BMO repairs the VR system and sends them all back to their slumber, where they live the rest of their days.  The thing all 3 of these eps have in common is they dont have a neat lil bow wrapped on them by the end. They’re not neatly resolved, and the dark situations still exist.  Johnny is still dead and it’s up to the viewer to decide whether reverting LSP was the right thing to do, Ooo is still going to get destroyed but there’s hope the candy people can rebuild elsewhere, and the people are still stuck in the VR world where they’re happy but unable to experience the joys of real life. 

Anyway I’m getting ahead of myself. What I meant to say is that Adventure Time getting really grim and uncomfortable with a sugary coating on the top is a Pen Ward thing, and I think it retained a lot of his identity up to the very end. I bring this up because lots of people argue it changed a lot under Muto, when in reality he just expanded on Pen’s ideas. Pen was still in the writer’s room for the entire season 5 and 6 breakup arc, for example.  

And as I said, he has been constantly involved on the voice acting side of things. I think if he truly wanted nothing to do with it, he’d tell them to involve LSP less, but he seems overjoyed to play as her! 

But if you’re talking about his twitter... it’s no surprise he doesn’t engage there. Historically, none of the AT crew have talked much on twitter about the show. Even Adam Muto, who could go on making AT eps for quite some time before giving up, doesn’t talk to anyone about the show on social media. It’s a big fandom, and the crew NEVER were that open. They’d occasionally talk on stuff like Formspring, but it’s a bit redundant to do so these days.  

I don’t think it’s terrible. I know what it’s like to be in fandoms where the crew talk FAR too much. 

I do miss the days of watching Pen, Steve, Andy and Jesse banter on twitter. 

Pen probably at this point wants to move forward with new projects. Imagine looking back at your old art all the time, you’d feel embarrassed! 

#adventure time

[otagen]

ok this is totally random but i came across your piper changeling art from november and saw the comment about it being an au and i would be so happy to learn more about that? if you want to share

first of all THANK YOU! i love drawing trickster and im so glad you like him. 

second of all: I’D LOVE TO TALK ABOUT MY AU. warning: this is such a long and silly explanation. it’s really long-winded and. needs a lot of explanations but luckily i’m happy to go off about it. there really is no name for the AU, but i have been calling that “changeling” hartley... “Fartley”. short for Fake Hartley. altho his actual name is Hartley Star (which i’ll get to). the lyrics are just in reference to a fan song i really like that i thought fit

the rest is going under a read more because it got extremely long: (there will be a TLDR version

so, this au takes place in a dc roleplay server with my friends (we post funny logs here @dcordchat ) and we have different AUs that we just name different earth. one particular earth we have is Earth-223, which is actually an expansion on a canon storyline! the “future flash” storyline (flash 2011 starting at issue #30) that really isn’t well written but a bit part of our server is that we take a lot of ideas and characters that dont get a lot of love (or some who do) and give them a lot more personality and thought. you don’t have to read that arc to know about hartley because the basics are: It’s 20 years in the future, and barry is going through it. he starts time traveling to fix all the mistakes he couldn’t. he’s lost hope. most of the rogues are dead. 

a loooot of things have gone to shit, and a lot of people were lost. including hartley rathaway. i don’t remember if hartley dying was canon to this arc (because i didn’t finish it because it really is... hard to get through.) but that’s fine because this is where things start to deviate. hartley is mysteriously killed. his husband, david singh, has not been coping and has secretly taken up vigilante-ism on the side, going by the name Orpheus. (music motif... homage of a myth/fairy tale like the pied piper- of the guy who loses his wife.)

barry obviously isn’t coping well at all either. the rogues are almost like his family, if not completely, at least hartley and he were really close friends. so...

IN COMES... MONDAE STAR!

if you’re new, mondae (aka Nightmare is my oc!) mondae use to be a canon character that i’ve twisted so far into aus of aus that she’s now my oc and is probably indistinguishable from her canon counterpart (they... don’t even look alike at all, unless you have been following me for a long time.)

anyway. mondae is sort of... barry’s roommate in that shitty future world that barry lives in. along with parallax, bart and thaddeus, Lee Allen, Marco Mardon, Josh Jackham, and an array of different animals including raccoons and a polar bear. Mondae is a sort of whimsical dream entity, almost like a diety in fact! but not quite, because she was made fairly recently. what she does is that she eats nightmares and makes dreams... and... can create dreams in the real world. as long as you can imagine it and dream it, mondae can pull that out of the dream realm and make it a reality! she often does this with animals or little gifts or things that are as big as a house.

however, she can also make... people! the first person she made was Lee Allen,, who is the brainchild of the kid that barry never had but always dreamed of having with Leonard Snart before he died(shameless shipping but... we can do whatever we want). this kid never existed before, they are entirely made out of all the wishes and dreams that barry had, and were given fake memories. Lee was made because barry is Mondae’s best friend and she wanted to do something for him! even though she didn’t think it through. despite the problems they had and the troubles adjusting, barry did eventually welcome lee as a father... and grew happier and regained much of the hope he lost before.

now. Mondae takes a look at Orpheus, who is still struggling to cope with the death of his husband. so Mondae figures... “why don’t i do what I did for Barry? I could just MAKE a new hartley.”

i’m sure you see what happens from here. 

mondae takes all the dreams and memories that everyone’s ever had of Hartley Rathaway and makes a new Hartley! the problem is, the real Hartley is dead and she doesn’t have access to all of his memories. but hartley remembers all these things and vague memories... he doesn’t remember the experience, his point of view is like. having the Supercut version of his life in his head. he has all the basics but not the details. the important things but not the things in between. everything that mondae didn’t cover in there, she sort of... winged it!

especially with hartley’s powers. mondae is made out of magic. hartley’s powers, the superhearing and the musical hypnotism... those both have scientific explanations. but mondae doesn’t get the science behind it, so this new hartley has powers that are mondae’s INTERPRETATION of his powers. meaning he can sing and play music that can perform miracles and control people like magic, and he can talk to animals like a Disney princess. this “fake hartley” aka Hartley Star (she sees him as a son!) is a living breathing fairy tale character. just like the real pied piper!

barry allen was horrified. more than him... ORPHEUS was horrified. his dead husband came back from the dead, except it’s not actually his husband. he still hasn’t finished grieving the first time, and the fact that this hartley is like his but it JUST different enough to... be noticeable... it’s too painful to witness.

hartley star is devastated and as you can imagine... has a lot of identity issues. thus: the piece of art i first drew with all his different iterations.

feeling dejected and hopeless, hartley star decides to live on his own. or at least tries to. he ends up running off to prime earth. when prime flash catches wind of this, he and a bunch of other characters try to bring him in. then... joe gardner comes in and saves him! and now they’re roommates... they bond over being clones!

hartley star is now just trying to deal with being a fake and having all these weird feelings about identity. eventually, they will make a name for themself! and their future vigilante name will be “symphony”... possible designs for that i haven’t posted yet:

TLDR: 20 years in a horrible future, hartley and many other rogues are dead... a new hartley is made out of HOPES AND DREAMS by a dream diety, but only has half his memories; which makes it hard for his old friends and husband to accept him. he has a lot of self-esteem and identity issues... but he is trying his best!

sorry this got so long but... i’m very happy to share it. 

#hartley star #hartley rathaway #nightmare #symphony #Anonymous

[thotsforvillainrights]

Alright, you know the drill! Keep writing for it until I get requests for it! It's the only way its gonna grow lol.

~Your Turn, Kai~

Au: Kaishi

Part: (technically two)

Theme:Comedic Fluff

You laughed at your husband's distress while you packed your bag. "And food? How will I fair with that? What about all the work I've got to do? What about if the brat gets sick somehow?" Kai was internally panicking. You could tell by the way he layered question after question while you packed. "Kai, calm down. It's your son so I'm sure you'll be fine. Besides, you have the others to help you just in case something happens." You smiled at him before zipping your bag up, signaling that your packing was over. "They don't want to be around him because of the last time he went haywire. Can't you just take him with you?" Kai pleaded with you. Although his simple medical mask was on, his eyes revealed his true worry. You smiled gently and made your way to him. You placed a (s/c) hand on his cheek and gently stroked it. After moving your hand down, you gave him a soft peck on the cheek to reassure him. "I can't take him with me because this is a girl/boys/friends night out. I'll be back first thing in the morning." With that, you left the house and went to meet up with your friends. Kai watched as the car drove away and left him alone with his son. As if on cue, Kaishi bolted from his room and went to stand next to Kai on the steps. "Mommy/Daddy is gone? I missed them?" Kaishi began to sniffle. Kai sighed and kneeled down to look at his son eye-to-eye. "Calm down Kaishi, they'll be back. Besides, you already told them bye before going to bed last night. Now go inside and change out of your pajamas so you can eat breakfast."

As Kaishi went to change, Kai was standing in the kitchen confused as hell. He never cooked ever because he usually left that task to you or someone else. Now that he was on his own today, he was experiencing real world issues (instead of just making a cup of instant ramen). He could've just called the others belowgrounds to help, but he didn't want to admit how useless he seemed. Besides, most of the Precepts were off today, and the others were busy with work. "Daddy, where's the food?" Kaishi's curious voice snapped Kai out of his thoughts. Cereal! That's quick, clean, and easy to make! "Sit at the table. I'll make you a bowl of cereal." Kai ordered and Kaishi obliged. Kai poured milk first, and then went to pour cereal. Sadly, a single oat fell into the bowl signaling that they were out of cereal. "Daddy, that's not how you make cereal." Kai groaned at his son's commentary. "Very well. What about eggs?" Kai asked him. Kaishi shook his head. "No I dont like those very much. Can I have cake for breakfast?" Kaishi asked him.

"Absolutely NOT. You will eat eggs and you will like it." Kai said as he prepared to cook the meal. His son sighed in annoyance and pouted until Kai was finished cooking (BURNING) the eggs. Kaishi refused to eat them, and even got up and ran from the table. Kai swore he was going to lose his mind and it wasn't even 12 o'clock yet! Eventually he just caved in and made Kaishi a sandwich instead. The sandwich was no better, and it tasted like germ-x because of Kai's obsessive cleanliness. Nevertheless, Kaishi ate it because he was hungry. Following the whole day, Kai had to withdraw from his business work in exchange of taking care of the household chores that you had to do. The worst was grocery shopping.

"Kaishi Chisaki, put that back right NOW." Kai said under his breath. Kaishi groaned and reluctantly went to put back the chocolate cakes. The cart was already half full of snacks, Kai had to draw the line somewhere! "Daddy, what's the difference between honeydew and watermelon? Aren't they both melons? Also, grandpa says that everytime it rains, a dragon is crying in the sky. Is that true? Oh, oh! Daddy, How old are you? Daddy, can I have a jacket just like yours one day? Daddy, why does Mr. Deidoro smell so bad all the time? Daddy?-"

Kai was going to put himself through the wall! He abruptly stopped pushing the cart and slowly turned to look at Kaishi with a burning annoyance. "HUSH." At that point, Kaishi knew he had pushed his dad's buttons too much, but he still had one more question to ask. "Daddy, how are babies made?" Kai's eyes widened and he cleared his throat before continuing to grocery shop. "Daddy, you didn't answer me? Where do babies come from?" Kaishi pressed. Kai kept pretending not to hear him until they made it back home. Eventually Kaishi gave up on asking questions.

By now, Kai was ordering dinner and chasing a butt naked Kaishi through the house because it was bath time and Kaishi didn't wanna to in the tub just yet. "Come here, you disgusting brat!" Kai shouted while Kaishi just laughed loudly and kept rounding corners. Kai slammed his hand on the ground and went to form a blockade with his quirk. Kaishi simply placed his little hand on the wall and reassembled it to be a gaping hole for him to pass through. The only thing that stopped the kid was the fact that Pops had woken up from his nap and Kaishi ran into him without looking. "Kai my boy, I believe this belongs to you." Pops chuckled as he handed the laughing child off to his father. Kai sighed in relief. "Thank you Pops."

When you returned early the next morning from your trip, the house was spotless and silent. It was 7 a.m and usually Kai was up getting ready for work, but there wasn't a single sound so far. You made your way to the bedroom and it was empty. By now you were starting to worry a bit. You quickly went to check on Kaishi and there your heart swelled at the sight in front of you. Kai was passed out on the way too small children's bed, his legs hanging off the end of the mattress. Kaishi was knocked out on top of him. One arm was cradling Kaishi, the other arm was holding a children's book. You smiled and got plenty of pictures to commemorate the moment. Seems like daddy did well by himself.

»—————————–———————————————————–✄

TIp Jar: https://cash.app/$YuTakeyama

#kaishi au #Au #mha overhaul #bnha overhaul #my hero academia overhaul #overhaul #kai chisaki #chisaki kai #shie hassaikai #yakuza #bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia

[theochelpsquad]

Lina Schlitz (Shingeki no Kyojin OC)

HEYAAAAAAAA its me again i made a really big mess of the old char sheet because i did it at like 3am so i decided i would redo it !! thanks again <333 

H: it’s fine! For the second time (bc Mod Eris is lazy!!!!) I’ll be the only reviewer. Under the cut, because this one is long!

Name: Lina Schlitz - リナシュリッツ

H: Shlitz is actually a name that has mid-German origins--nothing to fix here, it’s right on the SnK map!

Nicknames: Querida - pet in portuguese, given by her grandma. Idiot - given by some of her squad members. (i dont really have any other ideas for nicknames plz alp)

H: Most nicknames I’ve had or given come from inside jokes or shared experiences--a joke about her age when she started training or an alias from a battle, maybe?

Age: 17

Gender: Female

Birthday: 18/11/833 - scorpio (so she would be in the …. 102nd squad i think ? as she would be 17 by the time eren, mikasa, armin & the squad were 15… .although i kinda wanna make her older . .. should i?)

H: I honestly like making my characters older--older characters have more extensive backstories and more room for creativity. However, it’s your choice in the end! (And I’m pretty sure if she was 17 while the trio were 15, she’d be in the 102nd.)

Faceclaim: michiko malandro (from michiko and hatchin)

(i think this one is the most accurate - hairstyle , face, everything, n expression)

(without the chains tho… and the survey corps uniform… and shorter hair)

H: She’s so pretty cri

-personality:

positives;

brave - lina is not afraid to put herself in danger or do risky things, so she can get things done better than most people

decisive - she can throw her humanity out of the window to make decisions

honest - she doesn’t really care what people think of her, so she will often say what she thinks to your face

direct - as above, lina gets straight to the point 

observant - she often notices the little details, from environment to facial expressions or body language

realistic - she knows that she might die any day, and she lives life to the fullest

simple - relating to her trait of being realistic, lina views life in a simple way - you either die or you don’t, and if you don’t, then you better make the most of it

kind - despite not showing it much, lina is actually quite kind due to her grandparents and parents raising her to be a good lil child

neutrals;

competitive - she loves a good competition and will never back down from a challenge

sarcastic - lina uses sarcasm to make people laugh and hide her true feelings

unsentimental - as mentioned in her trait description of decisive, she knows that her 

comrades, family, and friends can die any day and they have a high chance of it too, so lina detaches herself from them as much as possible

tough - lina can power through a lot of situations, as she contains her emotions on the inside

calculating - she can observe a situation and make a decision off of it, but also she is good at making plans

strong-willed - lina will not give up. ever. no way hozay

perfectionist - everything must be perfect - including her statistics, battle technique, horse, and mostly everything under the sun. however most things aren’t perfect which annoys her to no end

negative;

cocky - lina can often overestimate herself, in battle and in casual situations, which leads to her putting herself and her comrades in danger

brittle - her emotions are easily hurt, although she doesn’t show it

manipulative - lina will lead people on if it benefits her

compulsive - she often acts off of instincts and emotions alone, tying in with being cocky

disrespectful - adding in to lina’s trait of being honest, she often disrespects her superiors, elders, and anyone on the planet if she feels like it - which doesn’t make her that likeable 

hostile - being hostile to keep people at a distance means that lina doesn’t have many friends

inconsiderate - as long as it is good enough for lina, it is good enough for you so you better not complain got it got it ok

messy - lina’s bed is often unmade and her appearance is disheveled

mannerless - tying in with being disrespectful, she often licks her plates, chews with her mouth open, talks while speaking, disrespects her superiors, ect

neurotic - despite not showing it, lina often has anxiety attacks about her past and friends, and what will happen to her (her symptoms include nausea, fear of dying, a racing heart, and heightened senses - including trembling and sweating, also staring off into space)

possessive - lina is possessive of her possessions, her friends, herself, and mostly everything that she views belongs to her

procrastinator - she often pushes things like apologising, doing training, and eating, off until the last minute

sly - tying in with lina’s trait of being manipulative, she can worm her way into someones mind quite easily and manipulate them for her own gain

uncooperative - she is terrible at teamwork, believing that everyone is ‘cramping her style’ and slowing her down, so she often refuses to work in a team and has to be forced - unless she is the leader, and then she loves to boss everyone around

sadistic - lina enjoys cutting the limbs off of titans before she kills them, however only ones that remind her of the one that killed her grandma and family - the others she has a strange interest in

cold - she often pushes people away, rejects friendship offers, and isolates herself

stubborn - once lina has decided she is doing something, there is no changing her mind

hot-tempered - she often flies off of the handle when provoked or annoyed, or if she is in a bad mood

H: So, from skimming, I’m summarizing her personality as appearing outwardly cold (though she doesn’t always mean to be) but actually being a lot different and less intense when you get to know her.

-appearance:

Hair Colour: brown-black

Hair Length/Style: mid-back length, extremely straight - tied in a high ponytail (so it is around the length of kristas/sashas)

Eye Colour: nut brown (very dark brown) with bits of lighter brown

Skin Colour: bronze-coloured

H; Seeing as the SnKverse is mostly white and light-skinned, how does her race affect her life? I’m guessing that once the Titans arrive, people don’t care what the heck you look like if you’re the one saving their asses, but maybe when she was a child?

Body build: mesomorph, a mix of hourglass and inverted triangle - lean

H: As she continues her training, she’ll begin losing weight and her hourglass figure will be less dramatic. If you want to write/draw her according to the timeline of her training, that’s a good thing to keep in mind!

Demeanor: relaxed - arms crossed, leaning on walls, slouched in chairs, head tilted back, head resting on table

Ethnicity: Brazilian/Portuguese/German/English (where is the story set in ??? nobody knows)

H: I’m not certain myself, but I made a post on where the story most likely takes place. Brazil isn’t on the map, though. You could make her Brazilian ancestry from her grandparents or great-grandparents who immigrated north. Then again, the map isn’t canon, so who cares?

Height: 5'3

Weight: 8 stone 6

H: She’s slightly underweight, but enough that’s it’s realistic for a malnourished environment.

Scars: One down her right arm, due to when a titan had her in its mouth during an expedition and, although one of her teammates killed it, it’s jaw fell onto her arm when it hit the ground and broke her arm.

-statistics:

Combat: 9/10

Hand to Hand Combat: 7/10

Agility: 4/10

Initiative: 8/10

Wits: 5/10

Teamwork: 4/10

3D Maneuvering Gear: 6/10

Offense: 9/10

Defense: 4/10

Cockiness: 10/10

Titan Kills: 

Solo: 11

In team: 21 (is this ok ?? i assumed since she was 2 years older, p good at fighting, and in the scouting legion, that she would have a higher kill count than say, mikasa, even though she’s an ackerman, because mikasa is 2 years younger and hasn’t been on that many expeditions)

H: Sure! The 102nd would most likely have a pretty high kill count,seeing as a lot of battles happen after their training.

Grad Rank: 1st (ahh is this ok too? i thought since she was in the 102nd squad, and her family was in the military, that she could be 1st since there aren’t any y'know titan shifters or ackermans in her squad)

H: Also fine! The 104th was a special case--standards likely wouldn’t be as high in other training corps.

Grade: A

background:

lina’s ancestors moved with most of the world to germany inside the walls, the only safe place on the eartha lot of her family died on the way, only two survived along with a few other people - a wife and her husband, alanza and lucas santos - not much older than 18.

when they made it to the walls, they were given a small, one bedroom house inside wall maria, shinganshina district as they were one of the last people to arrive.

after a few years, they had a child together, and his name was to be victor. they taught their native language, portuguese told him to teach it to his future children to keep their country alive.

lucas decided to enroll in the military and joined the garrison to try and keep his family safe, but he was tragically killed when an abnormal titan flung themselves on top of the wall and ran along it, crushing the garrison underfoot.

it was eventually killed, with the help of one of the first elite teams and the scouting legion. lucas was one of the soldiers tragically killed in the attack and alanza was left to raise victor by herself.

when victor was a teenager, he too joined the military - scouting legion - despite his mothers wishes. he managed to survive, however, long enough for him to be promoted to team leader - and for his arm to be bitten off in a mission, not long after his promotion. he was discharged by the military and met a girl by the name of hanna.

it was love at first sight, and they married only a few months after they met - after all, they could die at any time. alanza was soon a grandmother to a child of the name sofia.

by this time, the schlitz/santos line had become quite legendary in the walls, due to their skill and unwavering determination to help mankind. this cycle of the generations was continued until it got to maria and dedrick - lina’s grandparents. their father, abe, had been brutally eaten alive by a titan. due to this they were both firmly against any of their children or grandchildren joining the military in fear of their safety, and so the cycle ended. that is, until lina was born from delmira and adelchi - maria and dedrick’s daughter and step-son.

as soon as abe saw her face he knew she would join the military despite anyones wishes. as lina grew up, abe’s prediction slowly came true - she idolized the military due to their unwavering bravery and optimism that humanity would win the war between them and titans.

she was often caught sneaking out of her house to watch the scouting legion coming home from missions, cheering them on despite the crowds nervous and dejected muttering. so it was no surprise when, on her 12th birthday, the first thing she asked for was to join the military. (that lil shmishirt)

she persisted until her grandparents were brought to her house the next day from their home in wall rose. they told her of all the dangers, and yet she still persisted. they finally agreed - but only because lina’s father said he would join with her.

as soon as the words came out of his mouth, a loud bang rang out that shook the floor and caused panicked screaming to be erupted from outside. lina’s family rushed through their front door, only for them to be met with a crowd of people sprinting past, yelling and screaming.

they pushed through the crowd and found themselves at the back of another crowd, all staring up at the wall. a giant titan, over 50 metres tall, was standing behind it - looking down at the people of shiganshina with a blank expression, its hand clutching the wall. steam came off of it, increasing the temperature of lina despite how far away it was.

her family was frozen, huddling together and clutching each others hands. maria - lina’s grandmother - was clutching the cross and figures of wall maria, rose, and sina attached to her necklace and praying.

the titan moved its foot back and kicked the gate, sending it splintering all over the town. titans waiting behind it were catapulted forwards, crushing citizens and soldiers along with the multiple boulders.

lina’s family turned and ran as fast as they could. despite being old, lina’s grandparents were fit and kept up with her family - delmira dragging lina by her hand.

they made it to the docks in wall maria just as the last boat was leaving. delmira, with lina in tow, immediately began to shove her way to the front to plead with the soldiers to let lina on board. they denied her request and delmira whispered something to lina. they hugged each other as long as possible before delmira broke away and disappeared into the crowd.

luckily, the guards were distracted by the giant horde of people trying to break through. lina ran up the docks, as far away from the crowd as possible, and found herself level with a boat - it looked full to the brim. lina looked to the next one and eyed it apprehensively. stepping back a few paces, she sprinted as fast as possible towards the ledge. pushing herself off of it. her hands reached out to the edge of the boat, but the side of the boat was slippery and her hands couldn’t get a grip in time.

lina scrabbled for a grip, her fingers of her left hand slowly slipping off as she began to fall, but before she could, her wrist was snatched up by a calloused hand.

she looked up to see a friend of her mothers, adelmo weber, holding onto her arm. he pulled her up and onto the boat, despite the outrage that burst from the lips of the citizens that there wasn’t any space left on the boat, and even though she was just a child, he should have not saved her.

lina looked back just in time to see the crowd of people frantically running away - towards wall rose - from a titan, nearly 10 metres tall, picking them up and eating them like insects. the manic crowd drew level with lina’s boat, and she made eye contact with her grandma - at the back, out of breath - as she was snatched up by the titan.

lina screamed loudly, screaming at her grandmother to fight, fight the titan and get to wall rose - but it was futile.

the titan bit maria in half and let her severed legs fall to the ground as lina finally reached the edge of the boat, stretching out her hand to her grandmothers half-eaten corpse and the rest of her family.

the crowd was surrounded by titans coming from both sides and they were all massacred.

lina slumped down to the floor of the boat, and cried until she could cry no more. she slept until they reached wall rose.

H; Holy crap, all of this when she was 12? Poor kid! She probably has a lot of left-over trauma and stress from that day: PTSD, anxiety, possibly some extreme paranoia and OCD-like tendencies to check over and over that everything is okay.

the arrival of the boats was not received well by the residents of wall rose. they immediately began to riot about food shortages, overpopulation and that the titans would be drawn to the bigger population of wall rose.

lina exited across the drawbridge with the swarm of people who was on her boat, and they were promptly greeted by being pushed back by the citizens of wall rose.

they said that the other boats were too full, and they would not have enough room for all of the people on lina’s boat. the people onboard rioted immediately, calling out where would they go, would you be so heartless as to send us back - until they were silenced by the garrison and military police separating the brawling crowds.

they told all the refugees to go to the town square, where the people of appropriate build and age would be enlisted to the military with no choice, while the rest would go to work in the fields.

lina was enlisted despite being only just 12, and so began the start of her journey.

H: Woah, that’s young, even for SnK! Was she the only recruit of her age? Was she the focus of unwanted attention because of it? I have a student one year younger than the rest of the class at school and he’s always being picked on by the teacher (who I hate but that’s another story).

-trivia:

knows portuguese and when she is angry she slips in and out of it (for example, you are todas as dicas i hate eu estou para te you) also when she is tired or distracted she does too (i quero sleep por how tempo até as lights) this is because although her first language is english/german, her family spoke mainly portuguese at their home

H: My parents’ first languages were French and Arabic, and they do this all the time too! Nothing really important, I just wanted to add that. :)

she has the loudest, most boisterous laugh ever - although nobody has ever properly heard it

lina snores so loud she often kept the rest of her dormies awake

biggest sweet tooth ever - even though she rarely gets to eat anything other than beef stew and rations

H: This might not have been intentional, but people who experience traumatic events as children usually end up keeping childlike qualities with them for a long amount of time. Having a sweet tooth or sleeping with toys is not unusual for someone who went through what she did.

she has a bit of a portuguese/brazilian accent, mixed with english/german

lina cuts her own hair

her name means the heroes river, or river of light

SUMMARY-

H: To be honest, this character’s pretty airtight! There’s not much you really need to change on this one. She’s believable but still interesting enough to be a main character. Overall, great job!!

#oc #ochelp #submission #ocreview #oc help #oc review

[gasterimagines]

i know this is a gaster imagines but could you do some grillster? like what kind of relationship the gasters have with their grillbys? it's ok if you dont want to

Undertale - He is so in love with his flame husbando- Gaster clings to anything warm and soft- Thus Grillby has to deal with his bf on his arm like constantly- Grillby finds it a bit irritating, at times, but lets it happen- He doesn’t mind the contact, he’s just not so big on PDA- Gaster learns to hold back a little while they’re in public so Grillz is more comfortable- Grillby is stoic and calm, which balances Gaster’s anxiety- But Gaster is emotional and open, which balances Grillby’s more closed off nature- So they’re pretty good for each other- It takes a lot to make Grillz mad, though when angered his temper is fiery (ha)- He usually ends up yelling, which makes Gaster run away and cry- Which makes Grillby feel super guilty- But sometimes Gaster does need someone to tell him off, even if it upsets him- Just…maybe not so loudly- Grillby’s sort of the more dominant one in the sense that he lectures Gast when it’s needed- No more 14 hour shifts at the lab, or going two days without food because he ‘forgot’ to eat- He’s gentle and caring whenever Gast comes home exhausted or depressed- Likewise, Gast tends to fret over Grillby and makes sure he’s feeling okay, both physically and emotionally- Grillby could be dying inside and no one would ever know- So Gast makes an effort to check up on his wellbeing- Also Grillby makes Gaster chocolate milkshakes with whipped cream and sprinkles when he’s good, and it’s like his favorite thing ever

Underfell- The main difference here is that Grillby’s flames are bright blue :v- And he runs an underground crime ring- His bar is just a front for the real sales- He sells the Echo that Gaster produces, as well as various magical weapons- Pretty much everyone is corrupt so even the Royal Guards buy from him- Asgore probably knows but doesn’t give a fuck- Gast gets a cut of the profits from being a main supplier- As well as the leader’s trophy husband- Their relationship seems shallow at a glance, but there’s some true affection hidden there- Deep, deep down- They would never betray each other, even under threat of death- Gaster trusts Grillby to touch him- And he always comes running when Grillby needs his help- Grillz’s gang is often in competition with Muffet’s- Thus a lot of fights break out between them- Grillby has won all of them thanks to Gaster’s unbeatable fighting skills- The dude kicks some serious ass- Except for one time where he’s gravely injured and almost dies, which sends Grillby into a frenzy of rage and panic- But Gaster eventually pulls through- On the surface, Grillby quits the gang and Gast gradually gives up Echo- They want a shot at a more peaceful life- Yeah, they still get into fights with various monsters on the streets- But they turn their focus to growing closer, forming a more loving relationship- Honestly, this has been their goal for years- But it never could have happened in the Underground- Such ‘weakness’ would have been taken advantage of in an instantUnderswap - A lot of people seem to swap Grillby with Muffet in this AU- Which is absolutely hilarious so yeah, he’s a mildly creepy baker with overpriced food- His wares are delicious and often spicy- Gaster has never shopped at his stand before, but one day he’s meandering around and feels kinda thirsty- Figures he might as well support the spider fire bake sale- So he tries to buy some fire cider- It’s like, 10,000 gold- He lives in a fukcing cave do you think he has that much money- Grillby thinks he’s cute and gives him one on the house- From that point on they just so happen to cross paths more often- Gaster usually leaves with a free treat- He starts saving up the tips he gets from ferrying and finally has enough to actually pay for something- Grillby refuses at first, but Gaster insists- And Grillby’s like ‘ok but I’m repaying you by taking you out on a date’- Things just escalate from there- Grillby is super goofy and outgoing in this AU- And we all know US Gast is a total recluse- He forces himself to come out of his shell for his bf’s sake- While he still retreats when he needs space, the change is good for him- He’s not so lonely anymore, and legitimately enjoys talking to others- He likes to help with the bake sale- Monsters are a bit wary when buying from a tall, shadowy, hooded figure- But they come to realize that he’s super sweet and polite- Grillby is the only one who gets to see his face, thoughOutertale - Ok I can’t draw for shit but just imagine: Grillby’s flames look like a nebula- Gaster thinks he’s absolutely gorgeous- They’re like, the prettiest monsters in the Outer Realms- Gaster is sort of famous among his kind, so I guess you could say they’re a celebrity couple- They have a fanbase- Shippers galore- Monsters post things about them on the Outernet- Alphys writes fics about them- Grillby has full access to Gaster’s wealth, but he only uses it for things he really needs- He doesn’t want anyone to think he’s with Gast for his money- Gaster still likes to go full Sugar Daddy and give Grillz lots of unnecessary but awesome things- He decks out Grillby’s bar with the best decor and cooking equipment- It becomes the most popular eatery around- It’s also a bit of a rarity since both upper and lower class monsters can afford to go there- Outertale society is very classist and divided by income- The poor struggle while the rich folks do whatever they want; there’s very little help for those in need- Grillby offers both regularly priced items and exclusive foods- It’s one of the only places where Royal and common monsters interact- This is a huge step forward for their society- The rich start to feel sympathy for their less fortunate citizens, and make an effort to contribute to the community- A welfare system is established, orphanages and homeless shelters are constructed, new homes are built to combat overpopulation- For the first time in centuries, every monster has access to basic resources- All because some short, excitable, rich dork fell in love with a simple barkeep- I’m sorry this was supposed to be Grillster but I went all worldbuildy on youMertale - Grillby is a water elemental- He has a merman sort of form, with a humanoid torso and fish tail, but his entire body is fluid- He’s not comprised of actual water but a slightly more dense substance- It’s almost a solid? Like oobleck- Anywho, Gaster lowkey stalks him- There’s nothing malicious behind it, he’s simply curious and too nervous to say hello- Grillby knows exactly what’s going on- He finds it amusing- Finally, he surprises Gaster by sneaking up behind him and lightly tugging on his tailfin- Gaster shrieks, spins around, blushes like crazy- He’s so embarrassed to be caught- At a loss for what to do, he swims away- Grillby is a little sad but brushes it off- Though later, he exits his home to see Gaster waiting there- He shyly offers Grillby an eel- Mer-monster courting rituals always begin with a gift- First date: start!- They spend the day swimming through kelp forests together- Gaster turns out to be a huge goofball- He hides behind kelp leaves and tries to tackle Grillby- And phases right through him- Or puts rocks on Grillby’s head and laughs as they sink through- Grillz is only solid when gentle pressure is applied to his body- Gaster is surprised and delighted when he gets a hug at the end of the date- They go on many more, and each begins when Gaster brings Grillby a new gift- Grillz keeps all of them, no matter how silly they are

#reactions #fluff #gaster #w. d. gaster #undertale imagines #gaster imagines #undertale #underfell #underswap #outertale #mertale #grillby #grillster #drugs tw #mod dong

[kewltie]

there’s a recurring theme in many of my fics... ok there’s always a recurring them in my fics bc im that predictable but two of them are isolation and loneliness.

this is most painfully obvious in cd wherein donghae spent years locked up and isolated by his own half bro and then later found himself alone in foreign country with no friends or allies (eunhyuk promised him safety abut he can’t find himself to trust eunhyuk yet) even though he constantly around ppl but they’re not his friends, they’re not his anything (the journey in cd has always been donghae finding a home and family in esse). hyukjae carried part of the theme bc he too is surrounded by ppl and they’re his friends, family, and close allies but bc of his position it’s hard for them to cross the line and treat him as somebody equal, somebody normal bc the concept of regis is so ingrained in their society and mores that it’s super hard for them to break it. so for these two their loneliness draw them together even when their politics, philosophy, and doubts pulls them apart. 

another fic that come to my mind is tumblr au (which always been v v personal to me) bc as someone who has anxiety and is petrified in interacting w/ others so prefer to spend her time alone, my social circle is regretfully v v small. anxiety, specifically social anxiety, can drive you to isolation even when you dont want to! like donghae want to make friends, want to go out, want to be ‘normal’!!! but his fear keep him from accepting invitation, from making the first move, so eventually it get so tiring that you give up and accept your fate. it can really cripple your life experience when you rarely leave your home and interact w/ others so life seem to pass you by. i think coming on tumblr is a gateway of a sort for donghae bc even when you open up to ppl and share something personal or of yourself the anonymity of the internet is a powerful thing, you can engage the public and when it get too much you disengage whenever you want. that’s something i think donghae is v drawn to by tumblr bc he can dump his feelings--his resentment, his fears, his sadness, his loneliness--and he will be heard but he doesn't have to respond not if he doesn’t wants to. w/ anxiety i sometime dont feel like i have a voice in the world but tumblr is a tool that amplified it and make me heard even if what i said is unnecessary or useless and i think for donghae it’s very much the same thing. 

but it isnt always such a depressing theme i think! like in regency au after havig his family disgrace and being vilified for marrying a commoner for money , regency!donghae is ostracized and isolated by all his former friends and associates. once he was the life of the party and everyboy would hang on his every words now that he had fallen... he found out he got nothing except his pretty face and prettier smile and at first he got really depressed bc not only did everyone he thought as friends left him bc of his bad rep now even his own husband rather give him all the money and live outside than with donghae!!! that was a serious blow to his pride and eventually he doesn’t give a fuck anymore lmao. not when he’s too busy seducing/wooing hyukjae and to make his marriage a real thing. 

and now we’re getting to the real point of all this nonsense in goong au bc i watch to many historical/costume c/kdramas and goong is one of my fav manhwas i read till this day. im really drawn the idea of here is this fairty tale romance presented to you but it’s all a lie and that the royal family isn’t picture perfect when t’s actually fill with cracks and holes. i mean the things you see on TV and read about in school or in the news are just barely scrape the surface of it. at the end of the day the idea of an ordinary person marrying a prince sounds like a modern day cinderella but than you have to think about them having to separate from their family bc obviously they can’t live in their old home now, their every words and actions are now scrutinized by the entire world, there will be people who make use of them bc of their new position as prince(ss) consort, and just imagine having to uproot your entire life just bc you marry someone and having to give up a lot of  your freedom (things you often take for granted like hey walking out of your home to get milk or something now you cant do it bc of security issue & they have someone to do that for you). and make it even more difficult is that you dont EVEN LOVE THEM so here you are isolated from the world and the life you previously held, the palace that you once dream is now your prison... that’s just a harsh and lonely existence. for donghae is only reprieve is that hyukjae is there with him and that above all else that even though he doesn’t love donghae, hyukjae will support him 100000% bc they’re in this together. 3 years of marriage, 3 years stuck in this awful palace, 3 years he must give himself to this country and hyukjae so he cement his position as heir and donghae will be free, he just need to last that long but 3 years is v v long time and sometimes duty pull hyukjae away from him and that’s when donghae realizes that he thought the palace was cold and empty already but now that’s hyukjae is away... everything seems dead w/o hyukjae. i think about the psychological and emotional toll that donghae suffers and it break my heart bc hyukjae is aware of it and the guilt eats him alive :////. Hyukjae suffers the same ordeal but not to donghae's degree bc he least had an entire life to get used to it. Je doesn't like it but its the only world he has ever known despite the unconventional childhood he must have (to grow up in the public eye, to have ur bday celebrated as a national holiday, to be scrutinized even that young, to be taught duty before personal feelings, and that u are not one person but made up of millions who u bare the symbol for). So hyukjae grew up w/ limited freedom and the expectation of an entire nation of ppl on his shoulders... that kind of pressure is a cross too heavy to bare for most ppl. But hyukjae knew of his situation early on while donghae is thrown into this harsh enviroment and has to quick think on his feet bc if he doesnt adapt the palace will eat him alive. i think goong au may be draw worst on this theme tbh ///o\\\\... even more than cd. 

SO YEA basically my points is i have a lot of thoughts about being isolated and alone. 

#on writing #oh man i can't shut up

[hawktorah]

Noach - Isaiah 54 - 5779

Welcome back to another exciting week of HawkTorah!  This week’s Torah portion is Noach and this week’s Haftarah portion is Isaiah 54:1-55:5!  We have a couple of parts that we feel speak to us, so read more to find out!

The first part that draws our attention is right at the beginning of chapter 54.  This part states:

Shout, O barren one, You who bore no child! Shout aloud for joy, You who did not travail! For the children of the wife forlorn Shall outnumber those of the espoused —said the LORD.  Enlarge the site of your tent, Extend the size of your dwelling, Do not stint! Lengthen the ropes, and drive the pegs firm.  For you shall spread out to the right and the left; Your offspring shall dispossess nations And shall people the desolate towns.  Fear not, you shall not be shamed; Do not cringe, you shall not be disgraced. For you shall forget The reproach of your youth, And remember no more The shame of your widowhood.” (Chapter 54, Verses 1-4 - Sefaria translation)

In this passage Zion is being spoken to after her exile.  Zion is assured that, even though she is in despair now, she will one day have a tent (interpreted as Temple by many) to live in.  However, not only will she have a tent but she will need to enlarge that tent to fit the abundant offspring that will be born to her.  We as a Jewish people have been through a lot.  Time and time again we have overcome oppression.  We have come through it and come through it stronger than before.  No matter what groups of people you identify with, if they are oppressed, you will make it through.  It takes a lot of fighting and a lot of faith, but we can make it through once more.

This could also be related to taking in a stranger.  For example, someone who is barren adopting someone.  While in Tarzan, Kala the gorilla isn’t barren, she does have a child of her own.  However (spoiler alert), her child ends up getting killed by Sabor the leopard.  Not long after this unfortunate death, Kala discovers baby Tarzan.  This baby looks nothing like her, and is clearly not a gorilla.  Kala could leave this strange creature and let it die, it’s not her responsibility to take care of it, whatever it is.  Besides, she is still mourning the loss of her beloved child.  However, Kala doesn’t walk away.  She stays and comforts the crying it, recognizing it as a baby...something.  A something clearly in need of a mother and a home.  She gives him a home a name, and so much love.

She raises Tarzan as her own and defends this decision against anyone who challenges it.  Both Kala and Tarzan face adversity in many forms.  Not only were they verbally harassed, but Tarzan was shunned by the rest of the troop, and Kala, Tarzan, and the rest of the troop were attacked by a group of poachers.  

However, by the end of the movie, they came out stronger and learned a lot about themselves and each other.  It didn’t matter that Tarzan was different from the gorillas, that the gorillas were different from the humans, or that Kala and Tarzan were technically different species.  They learned to love and accept each other.  They took care of each other.  They became a family.

The next section we found inspiring is the beginning of Chapter 55.  It reads:

“Ho, all who are thirsty, Come for water, Even if you have no money; Come, buy food and eat: Buy food without money, Wine and milk without cost.  Why do you spend money for what is not bread, Your earnings for what does not satisfy? Give heed to Me, And you shall eat choice food And enjoy the richest viands.” (Chapter 55, Verses 1-3 - Sefaria translation)

We have long been a people of hospitality.  Our prime example is Abraham and his tent.  This passage is no different.  We take care of those who need something we can provide them with.  Of course we can provide others with food, water, clothing and basic necessities.  But, we must also remember to provide others with things that nourish our souls.  We must provide a listening ear, a soothing voice when necessary, hugs and love and affection.  We must support others with more than just tangible objects, but with things that make their souls come alive.  We must pour our souls into the improvement of our world by eradicating hate and violence in addition to physical need.

Alright guys, gals, and non-binary pals, our pop culture reference for this lesson comes from one of my (Marissa’s) absolute favorite shows.  That’s right folks, we’re talking about *drumroll* The Golden Girls.  You might be thinking, “But Marissa, how do The Golden Girls relate to this portion?”  Well, I’m going to tell you.  You may look at the fabulous foursome of women in this show and think, how could these women possibly be friends?  I mean, Sophia is Dorothy’s mother so that explains that, but none of the others seem to have anything in common.  That’s where you’re wrong.  In the earlier seasons of the show, we see exactly how these women came to live together.  They live in Blanche’s home, the home she shared with her late husband George.  After George’s passing, Blanche found herself in need of some roommates.  Rose is also a widow, and moved to Miami from St. Olaf, Minnesota and eventually found herself in need of a new place to live.  Dorothy and her husband Stan are divorced and eventually Dorothy also finds herself in need of a new home.  Dorothy and Rose find Blanche’s ad for a new roommate, and eventually they become just that, Blanche’s new roommates.  Sophia used to live in a nursing home, but that burnt down.  So, she also came to live with Blanche, Dorothy, and Rose.  These four strangers were brought together because they were in need of the same thing, a place to live.  It was these circumstances that brought them together, and through living together, they developed a strong bond.  Rose, Dorothy, and Sophia were thirsty, and Blanche had some water.

That being said, things aren’t always smooth sailing, both in the show and in real life. These women have a strong bond and are great friends, but they don’t always get along.  They bicker and fight and it sometimes isn’t pretty.  But, they always make up in the end because they care about each other and value each other.  And, well, that’s life.  We do all of these things for the people we care for, but that doesn’t guarantee an easy ride.  Life is tricky, things are hard, people fight.  But just remember, it will all be worth it in the end.  If these people are truly meant to be a part of your life, they will stick around for the good and the bad, and one day you could be the new Golden Girls, or Golden Boys, or Golden Pals.  Be patient, be kind, and don’t lose hope.

Love,

Amanda & Marissa

#Haftarah #Haftarah portion #Isaiah #Noach #Judaism #Tarzan #Disney #The Golden Girls #Family #acceptance

[almostnomadic]

So my dad died over thanksgiving and it was fucking terrible. 

He was diagnosed with cancer about 6 weeks before he passed. 

Watching him dissolve into nothing obliterated me. Sneaking my father water when the nurses said he wasnt allowed killed me. Begging him not to pull out his needles and cords was just unimaginable. He was my dad. He protected, loved, taught, and took care of me my whole life and to switch roles so quickly and so drastically was really really difficult. 

I worked so hard to take care of him and be there for him before he passed. But in the end he still died. that type of result doesnt make sense to me. It all felt for nothing. Typically if i work very hard i achieve my goal or if i am unable to do so I can try again. But my father could only die once. So when he was gone. he was gone. nothing seemed to matter. 

While he was dying I made a tremendous effort to just focus on the issue of the moment rather than on the fact that he was dying. If i could be at the hospital at a certain time to speak to a certain dr. I would be there. If my dad was having unsusual pain i would sneak into the nurses lounge and steal ice and the sort to help him. This was the only way that I could help him without freaking out every moment. 

Days in the hospital were so long and exhausting. Dying is a very tiring and expensive ordeal. He would be uncomfortable every 4 mins or so. So we could never leave his side and then adjust his legs when he needed because he was too weak to do it himself. 

His legs became so large and swollen that one could think they would burst. He developed deep veined thrombosis, something that the hospital never told my family and me about but something that i remembered writing a paper about in high school. It meant he could have an aneurism or heart attack at any moment.  This was a terrifying revelation. especially because I had had it after visiting him in Philly and returning to Chicago for grad school. 

Traveling from chicago to Philly for thanksgiving was very expensive and i had no way to pay for a ticket home. The drs. gave him a couple of months left to live at this point so i figured that is wouldnt be the absolute end of the world if I wasnt home for thanksgiving. Especially if i was going to be done with my semester the week after. Luckily my friends at school thought better. They all pulled their money together and got me the $600 ticket home for thanksgiving. I am forever grateful. 

When I arrived for thanksgiving i could tell that my father was deteriorating quickly. I spent thanksgiving day with him so my mother, who had never left his side, could take a break and eat and breathe for a moment. I spent the night in the hospital so she could sleep for the first time in a month. In the middle of the night he got very cold and his heart went so fast that it was very likely that he would have a heart attack, tachycardic. I got the nurses and drs to help him . eventually they decided that he needed an immediate kidney surgery. However the man who told me this directly told my father, a man terrified of dying, that it was useless and he would be wasting resources for trying to elongate his life. I nearly decked the piece of shit. But I didnt so I wouldnt be kicked out of the hospital. 

When they took my dad to go for the surgery, I went with him. And I did not wake my mother to tell her. I wanted her to sleep. So it was 4 am after no sleep and this 60 year old surgeon tells me how terrible i look and that theres a good chance that this surgery wont work but also that they have to put a tube in my dads throat to keep him breathing during the surgery. He told me that the issue with this is that  they may never be able to take out the tube again. This would have meant that my father would be put unconscious, and if this was the case, according to his living will they would pull the plug in a few days. I had no choice in the matter. I was simply told that and given my fathers wedding ring to hold. 

Holding that ring was absolutely wrong. It was not mine. Why should it ever not be on my father?! I of all people should not be holding it. What if the surgery didnt work? What if he had to keep the tube in!? He would be dead in a few days. Did I sign his death certificate?  

I was balling in the waiting room of the OR waiting for my fathers surgery to be done. I remember trying not to make noises as not to draw too much attention to myself but it was no use. It was so fucking hard to wait and see. I was a goddamn wreck. 

Finally the surgeon came out and said the surgery had went well and i screamed asked him if the tube was taken out. He said yes and i could finally breathe.  I dont know what I would have told my mother if he had died and I did not wake her to let her say goodbye.  Once I got the good news I went back to my fathers room, he had to wait in the recovery room,  so i slept for two hours. 

The next day my father seemed a lot better. i thought we might actually be able to get some more time out of him. Unfortunately later on that day he became unconscious and to my knowledge never fully came back. It looked like he was sleeping but he was gurgling like he was drowning the whole time. HIs nurses insured us that he was in no pain. But the sound was just terrifying.

Once he opened his eyes for a while. My two siblings, mother and I went to him at this point and said our goodbyes. We thanked him for everything he did and told him how much we  loved him and how glad we were that he was in our lives. Saying a final goodbye to someone is so much. You feel terrible that this is it. You are unsure that youre saying the right thing or not. Also you dont know if youre just making things worse for them by telling them it is the end. 

My mother is a deeply religious woman. She maintained throughout his entire illness that he would get better. Even after we said our goodbyes and the drs and nurses told us it was it, she held on. She told me she was just waiting for him to get up and be fine. She was expecting it. 

That fucked me up. How do you tell your mother that your father is gone and is never coming back? So on Monday November 28th around 11 pm my mom told me to leave the hospital so I could go home and sleep. She went to the bathroom before I left so I had a few minutes with him alone. I told him I loved him and was sorry for being a shitty teen and how much I loved him. I also told  him he needed to let go. That this was killing my mother and that she could not go on this way. That he needed to let go and that everything was going to be ok. I still feel guilty about this.

At 1:30 am on November 29th, 2016, I awoke to a phone call from my hysterical mother that my father had died. I threw on the closest clothing i could find and drove to the hospital. I couldnt think about the facts because otherwise I would have crashed. 

I got there and there was my mother, balling in the arms a sweet looking nurse. I ran to her and hugged and cried with her for so long. I finally looked at my father. He was so thin. There was nothing to his face but bone. His eyes were bugged out to wide and his mouth was fallen ajar. This was the most terrible thing I have ever seen in my life. My fathers freshly lifeless corpse. 

At one point a nurse came to me and told me we would at some point need to leave. I felt so small. I never felt as such a helpless creature as in that moment. I had to tell my mother this and gave her another 30 mins with her husband before they would wheel him away. 

god dammit why?This was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. Leaving my father’s lifeless body at the hospital that we blame for killing him. It felt like a terrible betrayal. 

Loosing my father has been the hardest thing I have ever had to do. Nothing feels or looks right. All future events and achievements will be lacking and feel hollow. Everything hurts and I want it to go away.

Maybe this pain will diminish one day. But for now I have a huge hole in my heart

#Cancer #Dad #daughter #death #personal